All Good Things
by Dhani Harper
Summary: Reunited with an old friend from the 4077th, Father Mulcahy is faced with a difficult decision.
1. Chapter 1

Title: All Good Things  
>Characters: Father MulcahyGail Harris  
>Summary: Reunited with an old friend from the 4077th, Father Mulcahy is faced with a difficult decision.<p>

* * *

><p>Francis John Patrick Mulcahy retired to the small room he now called 'home' at the General Pershing Veteran's Hospital in River Bend, Missouri. Though it was through a strange twist of fate that he'd finally ended up here after Korea, Mulcahy was eternally grateful. His room now was directly across the hall from the little chapel in the hospital where he gave services and offered confessions, or simply a sympathetic ear. It was a decent set-up, much more so than the terrible conditions at the 4077th. He had a real bed, rather than a hard, narrow army cot. He had a private bath, complete with shower. He had a desk to write at, a shelf to store books and other knickknacks, and an altar to pray at.<p>

Francis smiled softly as he looked at his own personal furnishings around the room—not many, of course, but enough to make it homey. "Yes, this is certainly a step up from Korea."

Having only been at his post for the lesser part of six months, Mulcahy was still adjusting to life in a veteran's hospital. While the pews at his services were often fuller than those at the 4077th, he often found himself with six days to do as he pleased. He could generally write a good sermon in a day and a half, so filling the rest of his time required a little more creativity. He decided that on Mondays he would start coaching a boxing league in the gym, and help out with other social activities. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he offered confessions or spiritual counseling. Wednesdays he made rounds to the veterans' rooms to visit with soldiers who were both temporarily and permanently placed in the hospital's care. And Fridays and Saturdays were generally spent preparing his sermon and resting up for services on Sunday. As a general rule of thumb, Mulcahy called his day quits around 8 o'clock and would retire to the sanctuary of this room to write to his sister, read a book, and pray.

Loosening the Roman collar around his neck, the chaplain had just sat himself on the edge of his bed when a knock sounded at his door.

"Come in." He called.

Max Klinger, the former company clerk at the 4077th poked his head in the door. He looked weary. "Sorry to bother you, Father, but I forgot to give you your mail today and I was headed out just now, so I thought I'd bring it here."

"Oh, thank you, Klinger. That was very thoughtful of you." Mulcahy smiled and reached out his hand to retrieve a small stack. "Give my regards to Soon-Lee."

"Sure Father. See you tomorrow." Klinger managed a chipper smile at the mention of his wife, then closed the door as he left the chaplain in peace once again.

Mulcahy flipped through the stack. Two of the letters were from his sister, but the third envelope bore no return address. Instead it simply read 'Father John Mulcahy, c/o General Pershing Veteran's Hospital' in very neat script. Curious as to who would address him by 'John' rather than 'Francis,' he flipped it over and worked open the seal with care. He pulled out the letter and stared at it with surprise.

_April 11__th__, 1954_

_Dear Father Mulcahy,_

_It's been almost two years since we last saw one another, but not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you, or anyone else from the 4077 M*A*S*H*. When I left you, I promised to write. I hope you will forgive me for breaking that promise, and I hope that you still remember me. _

_After the war ended, and the troops were all stateside, I spent what felt like a lifetime trying to track you down. It's silly that in the time I spent with you, I never really got to know much about you. I remembered you were from Philadelphia, so I tried to track down your mother. When I came up with nothing, I contacted every Catholic Church in the area to see if anyone knew you or where you might be. For months I heard nothing, and started thinking it was a lost cause, and then I received a letter from your sister. Apparently, one of the letters I sent out arrived at Saint Cecilia's Church, and the monsignor passed my letter on to your sister, who—to my luck—just happened to be a Sister there._

_She was very encouraging in her letter, told me how much my letter would mean to you, and how I could reach you. I can only hope she is right. She sounds like a wonderful lady, John. You must be very proud of her. _

_Like I said, it's been almost two years, and so much has changed. You'll be pleased to know I have been accepted into medical school in Chicago. Although the studying is much more demanding than it was with you, I seem to be doing very well. Two and half more years and I will be doing my residency. I am one of 4 women in the program here, and though it's been hard, many seem to respect that I was a Lieutenant in the army and a nurse at a M*A*S*H* unit in Korea. I still have you to thank for my success so far, John. You never let me give up on myself in Korea, and after I left I could still hear your voice of encouragement. I couldn't have gotten this far without you. Granted Captain Pierce and Major Houllihan were also a great help to me, but they were not as inspiring as you._

_I feel I have rambled on about myself far too long. I want to know how you've been. What was it like being in Korea until the end of the war? What have you been up to in the meantime? Tell me everything, John. _

_I hope we can correspond on a regular basis now. I've missed you so much._

_Best wishes,_

_Gail Harris_

Mulcahy released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Gail. That was a name he had not allowed much thought on for the past two years. He remembered Gail…vividly. She was beautiful young girl with dark, doe-like eyes and deep brown curls that framed her pretty face. John, the man, had noticed her striking beauty at once—as had the rest of the men in camp—but Father Mulcahy, the priest, had quickly spurned those thoughts. It was Gail who had first asked him what his given name was—and who had promptly told him it was too stuffy. Though he hasn't admitted it to her, he had always thought so himself. It was also Gail that had fallen in love with him, and whose heart was broken when he could not reciprocate. Mulcahy had been torn by that incident. He wasn't accustomed to being a "heartbreaker" and worried about Gail's wellbeing due to his own folly. A smile flitted across Mulcahy's face as he looked down at the letter in his hands, remembering it was also Gail who had reached out to him to mend their friendship a few days after that dreadful event…just as she was doing now.

Moving to his desk, Mulcahy took out a few sheets of paper and a pen and began his response.

* * *

><p>Gail Harris spilled through the front door of her apartment with a heap of medical textbooks and journals in one arm and cup of coffee in the other. Her roommate, Sherri looked up at her over the top of her horn-rimmed glasses.<p>

"Ya got some mail today, Gaily." Sherri announced as Gail dumped her load on the table. "From some priest up in Missouri."

"No kidding?" Gail beamed, diving for the mail stack and grabbing up the letter from Father Mulcahy.

"I didn't know you were Catholic." Sherri said skeptically.

"Oh, no, I'm not. John Mulcahy was one of the chaplain's I met in Korea. I told you about him, remember?"

"Oh, right." Sherri pushed her glasses up her long pointed nose. "The one you've been looking for."

"Yeah." Gail said airily, as she observed his neat cursive handwriting on the envelope before carefully tearing it open. She paused and looked up at Sherri, who was looking at her expectantly. "Maybe I should read this in my room."

Hurrying down the narrow hall, Gail closed her door and seated herself in the middle of the bed before pulling out the pages tucked inside the envelope. She began to read his response.

_April 16__th__, 1954_

_Dear Gail,_

_My most enthusiastic congratulations on your acceptance into medical school. I am very pleased to hear you went forward with your plans, and that you were successful—though I had no doubt you would be (remember, I do have connections). I am very proud of you and wish you all the luck in your studies._

_I was quite surprised to receive your letter, and impressed by the lengths you went to in order to find me. That was quite resourceful of you. My sister was right, your letter has delighted my soul, and I dare say that I, too, have missed your camaraderie. It brings me great joy to hear how well you are doing._

_The past two years have been a trial for me. More specifically, the ending of the war and my subsequent return to the states. I hope that you can bear my confession, Gail. What I am about to tell you is known only to myself and the Lord God Almighty. I'm afraid it isn't a very happy story. In the last few months of the war, we underwent a heavy artillery attack. Bombs were being dropped practically in our laps as the fighting grew ever-closer to the 4077__th__. One bomb actually did manage to land in the camp. When the mortar went off, I was in close enough proximity to have been killed. As it was, my life was spared, but my hearing was not. With each passing day I grew more and more deaf. I begged Captain Hunnicutt not to tell anyone, for fear that I would be discharged before I could complete my work in Korea. He kept my secret, and so I spent my remaining days of the war pretending that I had been unaffected by the blast. _

_However, the ordeal shook me to the core. I began to question, and even lose, my faith in God. I was angry with Him for what had happened, thinking I was somehow being punished. When the war ended, I elected to stay in Korea, despite my condition, to care for the orphans until their living conditions had improved substantially. Finally, I had no choice but to come home._

_The only problem was that, not only was I now a deaf priest, I was a deaf priest without a parish. No church was willing to take on an impaired priest, for what good would I have been to them? I was able to stay at St. Cecilia's with my sister, doing what little good I could do around the church, but I quickly spiraled into severe depression, and I'm afraid that I lost myself in the bottle. It's hard to remember if I drank because I was angry or if I was angry because I drank. Either way, I allowed myself to sink into a whiskey-filled pit of despair. It wasn't until my sister intervened and called Colonel Potter that I did quit drinking—mostly out of shame, I think. As it turned out, the Colonel had known about my injury for a while, but until he realized just how bad off I'd become he didn't know what to do. He arranged for me to undergo a new type of surgery that would correct my hearing. In return he asked that I take the position of Chaplain here at General Pershing's, or as we call it "General General". _

_I didn't really know what to say to his offer at first. The promise of my hearing was certainly too good to be true, but the cost was something I wasn't sure I was capable of delivering. Did I still believe in God? Was I still worthy to serve Him? I grappled with these thoughts for several days before I was finally able to put my trust in God again and pray for mercy and forgiveness. _

_A week later, I underwent surgery. The surgeon was pleased with how well the procedure went, but the recovery lasted several weeks. When the packing was finally removed, I joked that I could hear better now than I did before. I am grateful each and every day. And, as requested, I am serving as Chaplain. I feel very blessed to be here, working alongside Sherman Potter and Max Klinger again. The unlikelihood of the three of us ending up at the same place can only be described as Divine intervention. Now, knowing that you're only a day's trip away, I feel even more blessed._

_I hope the details of my most recent past have not disappointed or discouraged you. We all stumble on the path of righteousness from time to time, even priests. What's important is being able to find our way back to salvation, and knowing that God will never forsake us…even if we forsake Him._

_Please write again soon, Gail. I am most eager to hear of your studies._

_Dominus vobiscum-_ _Lord be with you,_

_Father John Mulcahy_

_P.S. I much prefer it when you just call me John. You were the only one who ever did._

Tear drops splashed on the note as Gail finished reading. Whatever she had expected to hear, this had not been it. She tried to image what John's life had been like for the past year, and felt her heart break. Life seemed unduly unfair for the gentle priest. Though she knew relatively little about the man, what she experienced of him at the 4077th had shown her how the odds always seemed to be against him. She was grateful to Colonel Potter for saving John from his self-imposed alcoholism, but somewhat sad that she hadn't been there for him in his time of need. His post-script, however, brought a smile to her face and she laughed fondly.

With haste, she moved to her small table and prepared her response.

* * *

><p><em>April 23<em>_rd__, 1954_

_My Dearest John,_

_I deeply regret not being there for you in your moment of suffering. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you to lose your faith. But I'm grateful to hear that you're doing much better now. I'm sorry for what happened to you. It must have been truly awful._

_Despite the tragic story in your letter, I am so glad to hear from you, and thankful you were comfortable enough to share that experience with me. Even though it's been almost two years, I feel as though it was just yesterday that you were helping me prepare for my entrance exams. While I'm appreciative to be in med school and studying to become a doctor, it sure isn't as fun or as easy as it was with you and Captain Pierce! Next month will be the end of this semester and I'll be taking my end-of-term exams. The work is as much hands-on as it is academic. Thankfully, I have my time as a nurse to look back on._

_So, now that we've caught up on what's happened in our recent pasts, I'd like the chance to get to know more about Mrs. Mulcahy's son Johnny. I know so little about you— you're Catholic, you're a priest, you have a sister…oh, and you have an extraordinarily long name. Help me fill in the gaps. Tell me who John Mulcahy really is. What are his likes and dislikes, his hobbies, what did he want to be growing up, what kind of little boy was he, what does he want out of life, what makes him happy?_

_For each question of mine you answer, I will also answer for you...as well as any questions you can think to ask me. _

_Already looking forward to your next letter,_

_Gail_

* * *

><p><em>April 28<em>_th__, 1954_

_Dear Gail,_

_Let me see if I can try and answer your questions, and maybe some that you haven't asked. It's been a very long time since anyone has taken any interest; I often forget how to answer such questions. _

_I was born March 17__th__, 1917—St. Patrick's Day, of course; it's where the Patrick comes from in my name. The Irish are quite fond of naming sons after patron saints. I am the youngest of seven children, five brothers and one sister, Kathy—or as you know her, Sister Maria Angelica. I have very little contact with my brothers or my parents, really. My brothers all went on to do traditionally "Irish" jobs, choosing laborious work as railway workers, blacksmiths, and the like. Kathy and I were the only two destined for the church, it seems. I didn't always want to be a priest, though. Growing up, I shared a love of boxing with my father and dreamed of one day being in the ring as a fighter. As a boy, my father took me to boxing matches with him. He bought me my first pair of gloves for my fifth birthday. They were terribly big on me, and very cumbersome, but I was determined to make my father proud and soon learned to control my hands, despite the gaucherie of the gloves._

_Though I never fought back against bullies, I did stick with boxing throughout my youth, and would often gather several neighborhood children for a mock fight. I went home with more black eyes and bloody noses than I can count—most of them from those who bullied me—but my father would always take one look at me and say "'At a boy, Champ." It was the only praise I ever received from my father. In high school, I joined boxing teams and often gave the black eyes and bloody noses rather than received them, but while I loved boxing as much as I always had, the desire to do it for a living had long since faded. I knew I didn't want to follow in the steps of my father and brothers, but my family was not wealthy and choices were limited. I was good in school academically, but knew there was no way I could afford college on my own. _

_Luckily, my talent in boxing landed the attention of the boxing coach at Loyola College in Maryland. I was offered a full scholarship, and a chance to play semi-pro. While I knew boxing wasn't what I would end up doing as a career, I am thankful that I was skilled enough to receive such an award. I ended up majoring in Catholic and religious studies, having always been fascinated by religion itself. And for the better part of my college career, I considered going into the teaching profession, or even coaching. It wasn't until my last year that I really found my calling. When I wasn't boxing or studying, I was involved in the student ministry. Oftentimes I found myself lending spiritual guidance to others. It was then that I felt I belonged in the Priesthood. The monsignor of the school's church encouraged me to continue my studies with the master's program in Divinity, and helped me to apply to the graduate program. I had to work as a boxing coach at the Community Youth Center in order to pay for school, and often took on other jobs as well, but ultimately I made it through and became an ordained priest of the Catholic Church. I returned to Philadelphia and took residency with my former church, St. Mary's. _

_I was very fortunate to be able to attend college and seminary during the time of World War II. Most young men my age were going off to fight in the war. I didn't pay very close attention to the war, other than who was winning, but once soldiers began returning to the states, I had the opportunity to meet several priests who had served as chaplains. Their dedication astounded me, and inspired me to attend chaplain school for the Army. My education and stature qualified me as a commissioned officer, so I earned the rank of Lieutenant once I completed training. Things in Korea were heating up around this time, and I received orders to report to the 4077__th__ M*A*S*H* unit and serve as the company's chaplain. The rest, you know. _

_As for my own personal interests, music has always been one of my greatest passions. I'm sure you remember the times I would sit in the Officer's Club tinkering around on the piano. Ragtime tunes have always been a favorite to play simply because they're so upbeat. What may surprise you, though, is that I can also be quite a mean poker player. There were many times I managed to clean out most of the doctors when we would play, though I always gave my winnings to the orphanage. I still enjoy a good game of boxing as well, and have even started a small league here at the VA. _

_I feel like I've gone on long enough about myself. I'd rather hear about you. Tell me about the Gail Harris I didn't get to know at the 4077__th__. How has life changed for you now that you are stateside and in medical school?_

_Most sincerely,_

_John_

* * *

><p><em>May 3<em>_rd__, 1954_

_Dear John,_

_Seven children! It was hard enough for me to grow up with my older brother Bobbie, I can't imagine having as many siblings as you do. I'm glad you and Kathy are close. Bobbie and I couldn't have been more different growing up, but I adored him all the same. He still lives in LaGrange, Illinois (that's where I grew up) and runs a service shop. He's married with 3 children—Katie is 12, Wally is 10, and Carolyn is 6. I try to visit them as often as I can, but sometimes only manage to get around on holidays. _

_I suppose you really were destined to be a priest being born into an Irish family on St. Patrick's Day. There's nothing very coincidental about me. I was born September 16__th__, 1925, so I'll be 28 this year. My father is a lawyer and is helping foot the bill for medical school. I think my mother is disappointed that I'm not a housewife with children of my own, but that isn't the life I want. I'd like to have children someday, but I also want a career. And I have to meet someone first. _

_I think you know a lot about me from our time at the 4077__th__. You know I studied pre-med and nursing before I joined the army and that I was planning to get into medical school. And my first letter to you announced I'd made it. Really, there hasn't been much to write home about in my life. I live in a shoebox apartment that's close enough to the school that I can walk, or take the bus on rainy days. My roommate Sherri is a civilian, but you wouldn't know it by how uptight she can be sometimes. We get along fairly well. I'd like to say that I'm no longer the socially awkward, self-pitying, unsure girl you knew in Korea, but I still have my moments of self consciousness. I have gotten better about making friends and feeling like I fit in though, so that's something. I think I owe a lot of that to you and Hawkeye, honestly._

_Some things you probably don't know…My favorite color is blue, I like big band and swing music. I always wanted to learn to swing dance, but I'd probably just look silly. I really enjoy going to the theater, but sometimes I don't even have time for a simple matinee. Time is probably my biggest issue. At least during the semesters. Over the summer it's not so bad, though I do try and take on shifts at the hospital so that I can keep in practice._

_Do you get much time for your own pursuits as chaplain of the VA? Do you stay onsite there like you did at the MASH unit? I've never really thought of how priests live in their private lives, though I remember your tent was normal enough. Paint me a picture of your daily life._

_Sincerely,_

_Gail_

* * *

><p><em>May 9<em>_th__, 1954_

_Dear Gail,_

_I'm so glad to hear how much you've grown personally. I always found your company to be exceptionally delightful, and I'm positive many others did as well. I think you should take swing dance lessons; it sounds like great fun! I never would have pegged you for one to enjoy that particular genre of music. I myself am a bit of an aficionado as far as the big names in big band. Who are some of your favorites? I think Benny Goodman will always be the King of Swing._

_As far as my own "private" life, there really is very little of my life that is private. I do live here at the VA. The Chaplain's quarters are directly across the hall from the sanctuary, which is convenient, but a little dull. There are no windows so sometimes I have trouble keeping track with the passing of the day. The only times I really see the outdoors are when I take a stroll in the courtyard or if I make my own trips to the market for personal items. Now that I think of it, it sounds rather confining, doesn't it? I will have to make a point of getting out more often._

_Most of my days are spent involved in some activity with the patients. They are quite an interesting bunch. Some are only here while they heal up, but others are more permanent residents. I've taken to playing chess with some of them, though I must say they tend to beat the socks off of me. I do give sermons on Sundays, which quite a few of our numbers attend, and as I mentioned previously, I started the small boxing league. I do keep busy, and the only time I'm ever truly alone is when I retire for the night, but I do long for a close friend to talk to. It's a good thing I have you and Kathy to write to, or I might end up talking to myself!_

_Tell me what the typical day looks like for a medical student. You said time is a big issue; I can imagine the studying is much more arduous than it was when you were studying for the entrance exams. Promise me you'll also take some time for yourself during the day._

_I'm enclosing a recent picture of myself, Colonel Potter, Max Klinger, and his wife Soon-Lee. I thought you might enjoy having it rather than my putting it somewhere where I'll forget about it. Mrs. Potter took it a couple of weeks ago and gave us each a copy. I must say I'm not particularly fond of pictures of myself._

_With Anticipation,_

_John_

* * *

><p>Gail smiled as she held the picture in her hand. Two years really hadn't been long enough to change Mulcahy greatly, but it was nice to see how he looked now. Back in Korea, Mulcahy hadn't worn much other than khakis pants and typically a black shirt with his khakis army jacket. There had been a few times when he'd worn his Loyola sweatshirt or even a pull over turtleneck, but as far as Gail knew, that was the extent of his clothing. In the picture, John was dressed in the typical Catholic priest attire—all black with the white collar. He'd always been a handsome man, but she couldn't help but wonder what he might look like in something completely civilian. Did he even own such clothing?<p>

_May 16__th__, 1954_

_Dear John,_

_Do you ever wear anything other than the uniform of your office? It seemed like your wardrobe in Korea consisted of nothing but khakis and black, and I'm willing to bet that it now only lacks the khakis. Honestly though, thank you for the picture. I have it taped to my vanity so that I can always see your smiling face. You do look quite happy—really, you all do—but I guess that's a product of no longer being in the middle of a war zone. I'm unsure if you would like to have a recent picture of me, so I'm sending one along anyways. _

_In answer to your question, I have to agree that Benny Goodman is definitely the King of Swing. I do quite like Count Basie and Artie Shaw. And, for a more zany touch, I'll even listen to Spike Jones. There are a few jazz clubs here in Chicago, so after the end of semester exams in a couple of weeks I promise to treat myself to a night of music and dancing…if I can find a guy willing to let me step on his feet!_

_A typical day for me consists of waking up around 0600 hrs, and reading over my notes and textbooks while I get ready and have breakfast. Then I typically rush off to my classes and practicals—which can last sometimes until 2100 hrs! There've been days when I was too busy to eat lunch, so I'd stop off at a diner on the way home just so I wouldn't have to cook. Most of the time I'll spend a few hours on assignments or studying, and then get ready for bed. Weekends are a little less hectic, but most of the time I spend them cleaning up my apartment from the previous week and getting ready for the next week, and catching up on sleep. _

_I must say, John, I'm really enjoying our correspondence. I'm always excited when I get a new letter from you. I really wish we hadn't lost touch these past couple of years, but at least I was able to track you down. There probably wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of writing, but once the war ended, I realized I hadn't asked you where I should write. Did you ever think about trying to find me?_

_Yours truly,_

_Gail_

* * *

><p><em>May 22<em>_nd__, 1954_

_Dear Gail,_

_Thank you for the picture, it is quite lovely. I shall keep it displayed next to the picture I have of Kathy so that I may always be reminded of the ones who fill my heart with joy. I must admit that, after you left the 4077__th__, I didn't allow myself to think of you very often. I always wished you well, but in such a sad place, another sad thought was unbearable. Once I returned stateside, I was certainly in no condition to think about anyone but myself—as exhibited by my recklessness with the drink. My thoughtlessness certainly is not a reflection of my lack of care or concern for you, however. Quite the opposite really. I think perhaps I cared more for you than I ever had for anyone, and your absence was difficult to face. I probably should not be saying as much, as it could be conceived as inappropriate for a priest, but I feel I owe you an honest answer. I trust that I have your full confidence in that matter?_

_Your day sounds far more hectic than mine, any given day of the week. I typically try to retire by 8'oclock so that I can respond to any correspondence, complete any leftover paperwork (would you believe I actually have paperwork as a chaplain?), and do my nightly devotional and prayer. I certainly have my fair share of busy days, but they seem like peanuts next to your schedule. I do hope every day is not so bad as you've described. _

_As for your night out after your exams, I say go for it! I'm sure there will be a line around the block of young men wishing to take a turn with you on the dance floor. If I didn't have two left feet, I might just stand in line myself._

John crumpled the 3rd attempt at writing a response to Gail, sighing heavily. "What am I doing?"

Seeing her picture was putting him at odds with himself and stirring up feelings he had thought to be buried and forgotten. He'd never admitted it to anyone, but he cared for Gail more than he knew he should. He remembered the embrace that had been the catalyst for her broken heart, and how—for the briefest moment—he'd embraced her back. Not as Father Mulcahy, but as John. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds at best, but by the time John realized what he was doing, he also realized there was no way to deny it. He'd erected boundaries between them, he'd tried to pretend it didn't happen, but in the end he'd simply had to tell Gail that he couldn't offer her what she wanted. It had been one of the few times in John's life he'd struggled with the matter of chastity. He had spent so much time praying to God for strength in the matter, and once Gail had transferred out of the 4077th, it had gotten easier for him, but only if he didn't allow himself to think about her.

But now, here he was again.

Pulling out another piece of paper, John tried a different approach.

_Dear Sis,_

_If ever I was in need of your council, now would be that time. I'm sure you remember Gail Harris, from my own mentioning several years ago, and her inquiry of me to Monsignor Roland. _

_In short, my dear Kathy…I am in over my head. Our correspondence has warmed my heart, but the latest letter from her has brought to life the affections for her that I so struggled with two years ago. It is of no fault of Gail's, but my own weakness._

_How did you remain strong during your own times of weakness, Kathy? God knows my heart, but can he forgive a priest that cannot cast off this worldly desire? And what do I say to Gail? Each time I have tried to compose a reply, I cannot stop myself from saying more than is appropriate. I do not wish to lose her friendship this time, but if I cannot learn to control my own thoughts, I may be left with no choice._

_Any advice you have would be most welcome. _

_God be with you,_

_Francis_

John picked up Gail's picture again with a sigh. She was such a beautiful girl and had not lost the innocence John associated with her. In the photo, Gail appeared to be studying in her bedroom, sitting cross legged in the middle of her bed, surrounded by thick medical textbooks and notes scattered around. John assumed the photographer was Gail's roommate, and had probably taken the picture as a candid shot, for Gail was glancing up at the camera, but had either not smiled or not had a chance to smile. She had a scarf tied on the top of her head to keep her hair from her face. From what John could tell she was wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt, showing a fair amount of pale skin. He wondered why she might choose to send this particular picture, but couldn't guess at the intention behind it other than the fact that he'd been the first to send her a photograph and she was merely reciprocating. Perhaps this was the most recent one she deemed acceptable.

With another sigh, John rested the photograph against the framed picture of his sister Kathy and turned off the light on his desk. A reply to Gail would have to wait. He needed to pray and talk to Kathy first.

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

A week had passed with no reply from Kathy and John was feeling very anxious. He didn't want to delay writing to Gail and give her the impression that she had done something wrong. He spent so much time praying that his knees were starting to ache, but it was seeming like a lost cause. Gail was starting to appear in his dreams. He always woke up before anything inappropriate could happen, but it was disconcerting all the same.

"Good morning, Father," Klinger said in a chipper voice as Mulcahy strolled in the office. Klinger noticed the dark smudges under John's eyes and his brow creased with worry. "Gee, Father, are you okay? You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"It doesn't feel as though I have." Mulcahy replied with a sigh. "Has the mail arrived today? I've been expecting a letter from my sister."

"I'm afraid nothing's come in for you, Father. Sorry."

John sighed again. "Oh, it's alright, Klinger. I'm sure she must be busy."

Mulcahy strolled back into the hallway and debated what to do. He couldn't put Gail off another day. He would have to write a response to her, but for now, he had duties to attend.

"Excuse me, Father," a woman's voice sounded at his right and John looked over to see the black and white habit belonging to a nun. "I was wondering if you might tell me where I could find my brother. It seems he's in quite a tricky situation."

"Kathy!" Mulcahy reached for his sister, dragging her into a warm embrace. "Oh, Kathy, you have no idea how wonderful it is to see you."

"Oh, Francis, it's good to see you as well." Kathy smiled. "When I got your letter, I thought it best that we discuss the situation face-to-face. I remember how troubled you were the first time you experienced this with Gail. Have you written to her yet?"

"No," John told her, leading her towards his private quarters so they could talk. "I honestly don't know what to say. The obvious solution seemed to be not to say anything at all, but I cannot go on avoiding the subject."

"Indeed not," Kathy agreed, sitting on the edge of John's bed as he sat at his desk. Her eyes fell to the picture displayed on his desk. "Is that her?"

John glanced at the picture before picking it up and passing it to his sister. "Yes, this is Gail."

"She's quite pretty, Francis. And young. How old is she?"

"27." John said with a sigh.

"Very young," Kathy said with a smirk before passing the picture back.

"I don't know what to do, Kath. I've prayed and prayed for strength, but now I've started to dream about her. It isn't right…it isn't holy."

"Dear brother," Kathy said with a fond smile, "We may be God's messengers, but we are still human. We are not exempt from experiencing thoughts of love or desire. If we were, we would never feel tested in our vows of celibacy."

"What helped you get through it, Kathy?"

"Free will." Kathy replied. "God's one true gift to us all. I knew that I had a choice to leave the church, to pursue the life of a wife and mother, to raise a family in His eyes. So, I considered that choice very carefully. It is not a sin to think about the possibilities, Francis. Only when we can entertain the thought are we truly free to make our choice. For me, I felt that it was not the right time. I felt that I still needed to be in His service at the church and so I stayed. I understand your vows as a priest, your promise to abstain from any romantic attachments, but you cannot ignore those feelings altogether, Francis. God has put Gail in your life for a reason. It is not coincidence that she has chosen now to contact you. This is Divine Intervention."

"Do you think I should tell her about my struggle?"

"It involves her, does it not? Perhaps she can help you find a way to resolve those feelings. Perhaps she no longer has the same affections she once did."

"But perhaps she does?"

"Then perhaps instead of praying for strength, you need to pray for clarity." Kathy told him, reaching out to put a hand on his knee. "We must endure our trials, Francis, if we are to grow in our faith."

While John had his doubts, what Kathy was saying was true.

"Write to her, Francis." Kathy encouraged. "I will go around and visit the patrons today in your place."

John watched Kathy leave his room, closing the door behind her. He drew out yet another sheet of paper as he considered exactly what to say, offering a small prayer to the man upstairs as he put the pen to paper.

_Dear Gail,_

_I apologize for the lateness of this letter and hope that I have not caused any undue worry by my non-response, but the truth of the matter is that I have had quite a difficult time in finding the right words to say._

_There is something that I must confess to you that I have kept secret for the last few years. Something which I thought I had overcome, but ultimately realize that I have not._

_The truth is, Gail, that on that night two years ago when we were alone in my tent…I realized that I, too, cared a great deal for you. In essence, the affections you held for me then were not completely one-sided. I was very ashamed of myself for allowing my guard down in such a way, because a man in my position has a certain set of divine laws to live by. One such law, as you already know, is the vow of chastity. We priests are to know love only in the divine sense of the word; the love of God. Through that love comes the three earthly loves—Eros, Philos, and Agape. Eros, the physical or romantic aspect of love is the type of love that is forbidden to priests. Philos is a love based on friendship (Philadelphia is literally translated to the City of Brotherly Love). Agape love is the highest form of love; unconditional love. It is this type of love that we find in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 "_ _4__Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, __5__Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; __6__Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; __7__Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. __8__Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away."_

_When you left the 4077__th__, I thought that with you went my feelings for you. However, I am finding that is not the case. Each new letter has brought those feelings clearer and clearer into my mind and it would be irresponsible of me to act as if they do not exist. I have sought the council of my sister Kathy, as she has often struggled with this very issue, and she advised me to write to you honestly about the way I feel._

_I care for you, Gail. What that means for me, I am uncertain. Certainly I cannot act upon such amorous feelings, but Kathy has advised me to acknowledge them at the very least. This is my trial, and there is nothing required of you. In fact, I feel most guilty for my admission; mostly for being untrue to you for so long. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I do not wish to cease our correspondence, but the choice is ultimately yours. I shall bear you no enmity if you choose not to contact me again, but should you choose to reply, I hope that you feel you can be honest with me in return._

_Candidly yours,_

_John_

Mulcahy re-read the letter several times before he finally sealed it in the envelope and took it to the outgoing mail box in the clerk's office. When he found Kathy again, she was in his usual seat in the game room in the middle of a mean game of chess.

"Say, Father," one of the patients piped up. "She's a lot better than you."

"She should be," John smiled, not taking insult. "She's the one who taught me to play."

The game was over quickly, Kathy won of course, and the group of losers wandered off towards the cafeteria for lunch.

"Well?" Kathy said softly.

"It's finished and waiting to be picked up with the outgoing mail."

Kathy put a hand on John's shoulder. "Whatever her reply, John, you should be proud of yourself."

"It isn't me I need to worry about, Kath. What I want and what God wants for me are two different things, and this matter dances in dangerous territory which could get me excommunicated."

"Don't be dramatic, Francis," Kathy said reproachfully. "This is a matter between you, Gail and God. The Church need not know unless you find yourself incapable of your duties. Did you involve the church when you questioned your faith after you lost your hearing?"

"Well…no…"

"And were they involved when you drank yourself silly?"

"No." John said quietly.

"Even we sin, Francis." Kathy told him. "We repent and pray for ourselves, we go to confession like everyone else. This is not a shield against the human condition." She said tugging lighting on the cross around his neck.

"You're right, of course."

"Good, then let's have no more talk on the matter until you receive Gail's next letter. I'm in town for a week and I'd rather not see you moping around the whole time." Kathy teased lovingly.

John laughed. "What would you like to do while you're here?"

* * *

><p>Gail hadn't known what to think after she read John's letter of confession. There were many things running through her head, and she had to admit they weren't very nice, even though she knew that wasn't fair to John. It was late in the evening, but Gail knew she wouldn't be able to write a decent reply until she cleared her head and really thought about what to say.<p>

"I'm going for a walk," Gail announced to Sherri as she pulled on her trainers.

"It's getting dark," Sherri noted. "Should I come with?"

Gail considered it for a long minute, then decided that it might be nice to have someone else to bounce her thoughts off of. "Sure, if you'd like."

They didn't speak for several blocks, and finally Gail spoke. "I think he loves me."

"He?" Sherri asked confused, not aware of any prospects.

"Father Mulcahy. John." Gail supplied.

"Did he tell you that?"

"Not in so many words…or so few, more accurately. He said he had 'feelings' for me, that he 'cared' about me. Then he talked about the different types of love and how he wasn't allowed to experience romantic love. He quoted the Bible and he said that he thought I should know."

"Huh…"Sherri obviously had no idea what to say.

"I'm so angry with him. The way he reacted to me in Korea…he was so warm and genuine. And then I hugged him. I always thought I had deeply offended him, I felt so ashamed for having a crush on a priest! Like I was some kind of harlot that was going to hell just for thinking how attractive he was. When, really, he put up a wall between us because of how _he_ felt about _me_! It's just…cruel. "

"Maybe he didn't know what to do."

"Yeah, he said as much. He said he buried the thoughts and feelings, but my writing to him now has brought it all back up like some kind of vomit."

"He said that? Boy, he really isn't very good with words, is he?"

"Well, he didn't say it quite like that. His letter was actually very thoughtful and apologetic. I know he feels deeply ashamed for not telling me about it, but it doesn't forgive the fact that he let me think it was all my fault."

"So what does he want? If he can't be in a relationship, why bring it up?"

"He didn't come out and say it, but I think he wants to know how I feel about him."

Sherri looked at Gail like the answer would change her life. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know," Gail sighed. "I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. It's like when you like a guy who doesn't like you back. You don't stop crushing on them, you just learn to move on, you know?"

"So you've 'moved on?'"

"I thought I had, but now I'm wondering if I was just kidding myself like he was. But what good does it do anyways? So what if I still care for him? It doesn't change the fact that he's a priest. It's not like our mutual attraction adds up to anything. He can't act on the feelings because of some dumb vow."

Sherri stopped and looked up at the building they were in front of, a Catholic church. She grabbed Gail's hand and tugged her towards the door. "Come on, let's ask someone higher up some rhetorical questions."

"NO!" Gail pulled back. "I can't go in and talk to a priest about this! It's bad enough I've got to figure out what to say to John."

"Maybe if you hear the opinion of some other priest, it might help you figure out what to say."

Gail had to agree that there was some logic to that and so she allowed Sherri to pull her inside and lead her to the confessional booth. Gail wasn't Catholic, she didn't know how this was supposed to work, but she and Sherri crammed into the small confessional and waited.

"How are they going to know I'm here?" Gail asked in a whisper.

"They'll know," Sherri whispered back.

After a long moment, the partition between their booth and the booth where the priest sat slid open.

"'The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, To preach the acceptable year of the Lord.'" The Father's voice was soft but full of conviction and Gail gulped, she had no idea what to say.

"Bless us, Father, for we have sinned. It has been several years since my last confession, and my friend has never confessed but is in great need of guidance." Sherri supplied. Gail looked at her oddly, not realizing that Sherri was, or had been, Catholic.

"Typically the confessional is reserved for one person at a time, but in this case, I shall make an exception. What troubles you, child?"

"Forgive me, Father," Gail found herself saying, "But can you explain to me why priests are forbidden to love? Romantically speaking."

"When a man applies to the priesthood, he is required to take certain vows to ensure that he will live a life of servitude to Lord God, the Almighty Father. Love between a man and a women is only one such vow that a priest must make, but it is required for one very simple reason. A man of the cloth has a responsibility to serve God, to care for his church and patrons, to spread the word of God and do His works. A man who weds has a responsibility to his wife, children, and household. A priest who must divide his obligations between God and family cannot fully serve the Father. One or the other would ultimately be neglected. We take the vow of chastity so that we may refrain from temptations of the flesh. It serves as a reminder that our lives belong to God."

"What would happen if a priest found himself romantically attracted to a woman?"

"He would need to repent and pray for forgiveness and the strength not to give in to his worldly desires. All men, even priests, feel the pull of temptations. The Devil certainly wants to corrupt God's servants. What is important is to uphold the sanctity of his vows and the office which he serves so that the Devil does not win."

"Father," Sherri asked, "What happens if a priest finds himself unable to keep his vows? What if he ever wanted to get married?"

"Then that man would no longer be allowed to serve as a priest in the Catholic Church."

"What would the church do to him?" Gail asked, feeling sick.

"You ask of punishment? My child, no one, not even the Pope, can remove the indelible sacramental mark of Holy Orders from anyone, but the priest would be deemed as no longer able to perform the sacred rites and duties of his office. He would lose any parish he might have. As all ordained officials of the church are required to take a vow of celibacy, it is possible that he would not be allowed to serve the church in any capacity, though recently the church has sometimes offered such men to serve in the Order of Deacon. Such a decision is made on a case-by-case basis, however."

"What's the difference between a Priest and a Deacon?" Sherri asked.

"Sacramentally speaking, a deacon is an ordinary minister of Baptism, and can serve as the official witness to marriage. A deacon may also read the Gospel and preach at Mass. Deacons are also ordinary ministers of communion. Only a priest can celebrate Mass, offer absolution of sins in the Sacrament of Penance, and Anoint the Sick."

Gail sighed, "Father, I find myself in a very delicate situation in which a friend of mine—a Priest—has confessed to having 'amorous feelings' for me. He has said he has no intention to act on them, but thought that I should know, and though he did not directly ask, I feel as though he's expecting me to say whether or not I have feelings for him as well. I really don't know what to do. I don't want him to be in trouble with God or the Church because of anything I might say."

"I see," The Father said slowly, obviously thinking of a delicate response. "To lie to your friend would be to mislead him as he walks this path, my child, but I can understand the strain you must be feeling. You must be true to yourself and to your friend and allow him to fight his own personal battle. You have not given me his name, so unless he confesses himself, the Church will never know of whom you speak."

"Father…if he did ultimately choose me over the priesthood…the church wouldn't…hate him, would they?"

"Hate is not a teaching of Jesus Christ, my child." The Father said gently. "Each man is called upon in different ways and God may be speaking to him through you, calling him to a life away from the priesthood. Only he can know what is right for him. The Church must protect the sanctity of its offices by not allowing him to continue in his office, but they will not persecute him for his decisions."

"Thank you, Father."

"In the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, I absolve you from your sins. Go in peace, my children."

As Gail and Sherri left the church in silence, Gail's head was buzzing with what to say to John. The priest had advised her to speak the truth, but what was the truth? Right at that moment, she didn't know.

"I'm really angry at him for putting me through this," Gail told Sherri as they headed back to their apartment.

It was Kathy's last day of her visit, and still John had not received anything from Gail, though he wasn't too shocked. It had probably taken a few days for his own letter to arrive, and even if she'd written back straight away, it would take another few days for her letter to get to him. Kathy hadn't let him dwell on the thought of Gail too much. Instead, she had helped him involve himself more with the patients. They'd started a ping pong tournament that had lasted well into the previous night and had been quite fun for all involved.

Now, as Kathy was packing her belongings, John was sad to see her go.

"How I wished we lived closer," he murmured to her as he leaned against the door frame of the spare room she'd been using.

"So do I," Kathy replied with a soft smile. "Having you close always warms my heart, little brother. If you ever do decide to leave this place, I hope you'll come home to Philadelphia to be near me."

"I wouldn't dream of going anywhere else," John smiled.

"Call me when you get her reply, Francis."

"If it's worth calling about."

"It will be." Kathy said surely. "For what it's worth, Francis, I think you'd make a fine husband and father should you choose that path."

John crossed the room and hugged his sister tightly. "I love you, Kath."

"And I love you, Francis."

They pulled back and smiled at one another before a knock sounded on the open door.

"Sorry to interrupt," Klinger said gently, "but the cab is here to take you to the airport, Sister."

"Thank you, Maxwell. I shall be along shortly."

"Take care, Kathy."

"You as well, Francis."

John watched his sister leave the room, allowing himself several moments of peaceful silence before he stepped back into the hall and down towards the wards.

* * *

><p>When Gail's letter arrived that Saturday, John had been in the middle of preparing for his sermon the following day. It had taken all his will power to set her letter aside in order to finish the final revisions, mark the passages, and pray. When he was satisfied that he was prepared, he moved to his bed with the envelope. It felt thicker than her previous correspondences, and he wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign. He decided it didn't matter either way. Her answer was in his hands.<p>

Carefully, John tore the seal and pulled out the folded pages within. He took a deep breath as he unfolded them, then slowly began to read.

_Dearest John,_

_I hope that you will bear with me as I write this letter because I have so many things I want to say, and they're all so jumbled in my head that I'm not sure how to get them out coherently._

_I was very surprised by your confession, and very angry. Not angry with how you feel, but angry with the fact that two years ago you made me feel horrible about how I felt. I was so embarrassed and devastated and felt like a complete fool. I remember feeling like a laughing stock, like you were telling the whole camp about the girl with the crush on you. I know you didn't talk about it other than to Hawkeye, but when he came to me, I was so ashamed that I figured you must have told everyone. You should have told me then, John. You should have said something so that I didn't feel so alone and alienated by you._

_I was so angry that I ended up going for a walk to try and burn off some anger and cool my head before I wrote you back. I didn't want to say something I would later regret. Sherri went with me, and we ended up outside a Catholic Church. She had asked me what I intended to say to you when I wrote you and I told her I didn't have a clue, so she pulled me into the church and we talked to one of the priests. I asked him to explain to me why priests are forbidden from experiencing romantic love and why you aren't allowed to marry. He told me very plainly the reasoning behind it, and I understood. Next, I asked him what might happen to a priest who chose a married life over the priesthood, and it made me sick to my stomach, to be honest._

_John, I feel I'm damned either way in this situation. If you ever decided to act on your feelings for me, you would be forced to step down from your position and there is no guarantee you'd be allowed to remain in the service of the church. The Father I spoke to said the church sometimes makes exceptions in situations like these and will allow the priest to serve as a Deacon, but there is no clear guideline on what they might do. I could never live with myself knowing that I was responsible for any of that. Not being Catholic, I'm at a disadvantage to knowing what everything means, but I think I know you well enough to know that the priesthood is where you belong. You've spent your entire life, it seems, working towards that goal, and who am I to come into your life and ruin it all for you?_

_The Father we spoke to told me that I should be honest in what I say to you, which is a no brainer to me. After the candidness you expressed in your last letter, it would be unfair of me not to do the same. I just want you to know that what I say, I say with much trepidation…_

_My feelings for you have remained unchanged over the past two years. I have always cared so deeply for you, John. But after that night, I knew I couldn't act on my feelings any more than you could act on yours. Your friendship was worth so much to me and I knew that if I couldn't love you the way I wanted to, I could at least be a very good friend. I knew that was all I could hope for from you. Now, though, I'm at a loss on what to hope for or expect._

_If you know I have amorous feelings in return for you, what will you do? What __can__ you do? I'm sure going on a date certainly isn't an option. It's not as though we can try on a relationship to see if we're compatible like normal people might do. And I'm sure you wouldn't risk leaving the priesthood on the off chance that things would work in our favor. There are so many questions, John, so much to consider. I'm still in medical school, I have a residency to complete after that. You have duties as a Chaplain at the VA. What happens if you take the chance and realize one day you've made a terrible mistake? What happens if you don't take the chance and we both realize we've made a horrible mistake?_

_I just really don't know what good my telling you how I feel is going to do, other than satisfy your own curiosity on the matter. There have been several times over the past few years where I have thought to myself, "Why did he have to be a priest?" I wish you weren't at times, but I'm glad you are. I know how much you've helped people—myself included—and I wouldn't deny any of them that moment for my own selfish desires._

_I keep trying to imagine what it might be like if you left the priesthood, and it simply makes me angry with you all over again. I don't want to be the deciding factor for you, I don't want to be the basket you put all your eggs in. This is really unfair of you, John. As much as I don't want to say this, as much as I know it's going to break my heart again, I promised to be honest with you. _

_The truth, Francis John Patrick Mulcahy, is that I love you. I think I fell in love with you the moment I first saw you, and I grew to love you more and more each day. Knowing you care for me does make me very happy, but also very sad as I wonder where we go from here. I expect you have a lot to think and pray about. I have my own thinking to do, as well._

_I will wait to hear from you and I will respect whatever decision you make, John. If I never have another chance to tell you how I feel; if this is my only window of opportunity, then so be it. I suppose at least now I know how you feel._

_With love,_

_Gail_

John released the breath he'd been holding. So there it was. She loved him. He honestly didn't know how he felt about that revelation. The guilt was still there, of course. Hearing her say just how angry she was with him hurt, but he knew he deserved her ire. She was right, he should have said something back then, but at the time he thought that would just make things worse for both of them. He was also impressed that she'd gone to talk to a priest. It was quite thoughtful, really, that she wanted to make an informed decision in telling him how she felt.

But now, the ball was again in his court. He had to figure out if he planned to pursue a life with her, or simply accept their mutual affection and continue on with his life as he knew it. She was right, he had a lot of prayer ahead of him.

Checking the small clock on his desk, John saw that it was nearly 10pm. He wondered if Kathy might still be awake. She had asked for him to call when he got Gail's letter. After a moment's debate, Mulcahy slid off his bed and headed towards the clerk's office. None of the regular staffers worked on weekends, so he knew it would just be the few ladies at the reception desk.

"Good evening, Father," one of the young women smiled at the priest. "You're up late tonight."

"Oh, yes, getting ready for tomorrow's service," John smiled. "I was hoping I might trouble you for a favor, Caroline."

"Anything, Father. What can I do for you?"

"Would you mind to let me into Max Klinger's office for a few minutes? I need to make a personal call."

"Sure, but if anyone asks, I have no idea what you're talking about," Caroline winked and reached in a drawer for her keys, coming around the desk and leading the priest to Klinger's small office a few doors down.

"Thank you," John said softly. "I'll be sure to lock it behind me."

"Goodnight, Father."

John closed the door as the woman headed back to the reception desk, then sat at Klinger's desk and picked up the phone.

"Yes, operator, I'd like to place a call to St. Cecelia's Church in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania."

After several moments, the call was connected.

"St. Cecelia's Church, this is Sister Maria Sabina."

"Good Evening, Sister. I apologize for calling so very late. This is Father Francis Mulcahy, I was hoping to speak with Sister Maria Angelica if I could."

"Good evening, Father. Yes, of course. I shall send for her straight away."

Several long minutes of silence passed and John drummed his fingers on the desk nervously as he thought about what Gail had said in her letter.

"Francis?"

"Kathy," John said with a smile. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

"No, of course not. When have you ever known me to be an early sleeper? I'm guessing Gail has written?"

"Oh yes…"

"And? Don't keep me in suspense. What did she say?"

"Well, she was quite angry with me for not admitting I had feelings for her back then."

"Naturally."

"And she went to speak with a priest to ask what might happen to me if anything ever became us."

"Really?" Kathy sounded surprised. "It was good of her to do so. She must really care about you, Francis. What else did she say?"

"She said she still cares for me. That she…loves me. Only, now I've made it quite complicated for her. She said she would feel responsible for my leaving the priesthood if I chose to have a physical relationship with her. I didn't mean to put that kind of pressure on her, Kath. I honestly didn't."

"Of course you didn't, dear brother. What do you intend to do now?"

"I have no idea. I certain can't make any rash decisions about this."

"I should think not," Kathy said with an amused tone. "Francis, why don't you go on a Sabbatical? Things have been so hard for you since you came back from Korea. The drinking…the surgery…Gail… You need time to be alone with God for a while and really renew your spirit. It will give you time to listen to God without the interruptions of your day-to-day life."

"Yes…I think you might be right. I can't expect to make a sound decision about anything if I'm not in the right place spiritually."

"If there is anything I can do, you'll let me know?"

"Of course." John smiled softly. "Thank you, Kathy. You always have the best advice."

"I'm your big sister; it's my job."

* * *

><p>Gail was in the middle of studying for one of her upcoming finals when Sherri came in with the mail, dropping a letter on the open pages. Gail recognized John's handwriting right away. She bit her lip and looked up at Sherri, debating whether or not she should open it.<p>

"Don't look at me," Sherri said. "You know you're going to open it."

Gail sighed and pressed the letter against her chest as if the small hug would make everything better. She took a deep breath and opened the letter, disappointed to find a shorter than normal response.

_Dear Gail,_

_Thank you for your honesty. I deeply regret ever having hurt you, or making you feel alienated. Never was that my intention. I want you to know how much it means to me hearing you say that you do still care for me and I will do my very best to weigh my decision carefully._

_I certainly don't wish for you to feel that if I do leave the church that it would be your fault in any way. The choices I make are mine, and mine alone. I have been feeling less and less at peace with my position as a priest. I think my attraction to you is just one more piece to add to my list of grievances to take up with God, not that being attracted to you is bad thing. The only bad part of it is not being able to do anything about it._

_I've decided to go on Sabbatical for the next few weeks. That means that I will effectively cut myself off from any outside communications and go some place where I can be alone with myself and God. I think I have needed to this for some time now, and my hope is that I will find an answer as to what my future holds. I wish I could give you more to go on than that, but even I don't know at this point what will happen or how I will feel about anything at the end of my journey._

_I know your final exams must be coming up shortly, and I wish you good luck on them, though I'm quite certain you will pass with flying colors. I will write to you as soon as I return._

_I shall miss you._

_Fide et amore,_

_John_

"Fide et amore…" Gail murmured, trying to wrack her brain to translate the saying. Fides had to do with faith. Amor was love. Faith and Love? That sounded like something John would say. She smiled despite herself. Maybe he hadn't said it directly, or even in English, but she supposed until he figured things out that was the closest John Mulcahy would come to telling her he loved her too.

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Mulcahy was seated in a large open field dotted with small pine trees. Mountains rose up in the near distance, silhouetted against the vast blue sky. It was warm outside, but the breeze was cool, and he was surrounded by nothing but God and nature. The Catholic Church had several thousand acres of land scattered around all 50 states for members of the clergy to go on sabbatical. John had chosen Montana. He'd never been to Montana, but he'd heard about its majestic beauty.

He closed his eyes and simply listened to the world around him. He wondered if he'd ever really taken the time to appreciate his sense of hearing before he lost it. He'd never had much opportunity as a boy to be alone with nature. Growing up in Philadelphia, he'd been surrounded by industry. He had never really gone camping or on any true outdoorsman activities. In Korea, he hadn't appreciated much about the land there. It had been dry and hot and dangerous in the summer months. In the winter it was wet and cold and dangerous. Very little beauty to behold with bombs and bugging out every other day.

Birds sang in the nearby trees and he could hear the wind as it rustled through the tall grass. Here, alone, with nothing but God's creation around him, John felt closer to God than he ever had in his life. He felt humbled and awed. This was his sanctuary, his chance at salvation…and yet he couldn't stop from thinking about Gail.

He wished she could be there with him, reveling in the beauty around him. Would she appreciate it as much as he did? Would she feel the connection to God that he felt? John knew Gail was believer of Jesus Christ, but he honestly didn't know the extent of her beliefs. She'd always been to his services at the 4077th, but was she there for the word of God, or was she there because of him? She'd never asked him for spiritual guidance. He conceded that once he left here, he would ask her about her own faith. He was oddly struck by the fact that he hadn't really been concerned about it before now. He knew she wasn't Catholic, but she'd obviously never been opposed to Catholicism or she never would have fallen in love with a Catholic priest…right? Still, it did raise questions of what would have to be sacrificed for a romantic partnership to work. Would she convert for him? Would he for her? How would they raise their children?

John pushed the flood of thoughts to the back of his mind. He would consider that later. Right now, he needed to take one thing at a time. With a deep breath, John refocused on his original thought: his renewed sense of hearing.

He had taken so much for granted in his life without ever really realizing it. Mulcahy considered himself a humble man, but he suddenly realized how very petty he could be at times. The loss of hearing was only one example. How quickly he had become angry with God for it. It brought to mind the other times in his recent past he'd been angry with God. Each time he'd been passed up for promotion in the army, he'd pointed a finger at God, all too eager to lay the blame on the Almighty by saying that God just didn't like him that much. Mulcahy knew it had been wrong to do so at the time, but it never seemed to stop him, and now he felt truly ashamed for it.

How could a priest be so good at listening to others, forgiving their sins, teaching them the ways of Jesus Christ, and be so terrible at living a Christ-like existence himself? If he remained a priest, that would have to be the first thing he started to work on. Even if he didn't remain a priest, he needed to work on it.

John spent several hours praying and meditating and simply being. He knew that part of being on a sabbatical was to face the worst parts of your own nature so that you could learn from your mistakes and grow, but by the time that he made it back to the small circle of cabins, he felt emotionally and mentally drained.

There weren't many other clergymen on sabbatical at this location, but John knew he wasn't alone there. There was a mess tent of sorts were meals were provided a few times throughout the day, and John had just made it back to the camp in time for the last meal of the day. This place reminded him of a more permanent MASH unit, sans the blood, bodies, and bombs. The mess tent was quite, with only 3 other men eating at all opposite ends of the room from each other, obviously lost in their own introspection.

John took a seat away from the others, blessed his food, and joined in the solitude. He found it strange that he felt more alone surrounded by the men of his ilk than he had surrounded by nothing but nature. Had this always been the case? He couldn't say for sure. He knew that no other person had any bearing on his duties or abilities as a priest, but shouldn't he feel a sense of camaraderie at the very least? It was disturbing that he didn't. He tried to think of other chaplains in Korea he could consider a 'friend' but no one came to mind. He felt friendlier around the Sisters of the Church than he did anyone else, but supposed that had something to do with his own sister being a Sister.

After finishing his meal, John retired to his cabin, but ended up sitting on the old worn stoop to look up at the stars. Again, he felt so small and awed by the magnificence of his creator. He felt his eyes sting with tears as he considered just how incredible God was; how much God appreciated simple, quiet beauty. Had Korea been beautiful at all? He supposed in its own way it had; or maybe had been. John found nothing beautiful about a country ravaged by war.

Sitting outside in the chilly night air brought John's mind to the very basic of questions: Why was he here? What was his purpose in life? What was he meant to do and where was he supposed to go from here? Life seemed so irrevocably complicated at times. There were always duties and tasks and paperwork and patients and so much erroneous stuff in between all of that that sometimes John forgot to breathe. He remembered writing to Gail and telling her that he barely even noticed the passing of the days. That wasn't how life was supposed to be, was it? Rushing around trying to complete some unimportant thing just to go on to the next one? He thought about Colonel Potter, who often arrived at the hospital at dawn and didn't leave until dusk. What good was life if you merely worked yourself to death? John made a silent vow to stop living fruitlessly. Maybe he would ask to start a garden in the courtyard at the hospital. He had done that in Korea and it had made him happier.

John closed his eyes and listened to chorus frogs as they thrilled nearby, looking for mates. He smiled at the sound. It reminded him of someone dragging their nails over the teeth of a comb. It was pleasant despite the repetitiveness.

Again, his mind drifted to Gail and he allowed himself a few moments to consider her as simply a man and not a priest. Was it strange to know you loved someone without ever having shared more than a brief friendship? At the very basic level love was just a strong feeling of attachment to someone, a sense of caring for them, of wanting to be with them and share in their life. He supposed by that definition, it wasn't all that strange that they loved each other.

John imagined her dark, curly locks being tousled by the breeze. He imagined reaching out to brush them gently away from her face, his fingertips lightly grazing her soft skin. She would smile shyly at him and look up at him through her thick dark lashes, her dark eyes sparkling in the star light. The image was so clear in his mind that John could almost smell her perfume, could almost feel the warmth of her body.

He shivered and took a deep breath, pushing that thought completely out of his mind. He tried to think of reasons why he loved Gail, instead. She was beautiful, of course, but looks were only skin deep. It was personality that made someone truly beautiful to him, and she had loads of personality when she wasn't too busy being self-conscious. She was bright and funny and always knew how to make him laugh. They had similar interests, as well, and both had a hard time in fitting in with the crowd. And, most importantly—John thought—she saw the man first and the priest second. She wasn't afraid or intimidated by him. She was completely herself with him. That meant the world to him.

He couldn't help but wonder why she cared so much about him. Maybe he would be able to ask her someday.

John got up and stretched before heading into his cabin. It was getting late and he still needed to bathe and pray before he could sleep.

* * *

><p>"What do you think he's doing right now?" Gail asked as she and Sherri shared a pint of ice cream on a hot Saturday afternoon. They had finished their exams, and just as John had predicted, she had passed with flying colors. She wanted to write to him to tell him as much, but knew he wouldn't get the letter until he returned from wherever it was he'd gone.<p>

"By now he's probably run away to join the circus. He'll call you up when it's in town." Sherri deadpanned as she licked her spoon.

Gail glared. "That's not funny."

"Yes it is." Sherri replied nonchalantly.

"It's been two weeks," Gail sighed. "How much can a person pray?"

"He's a priest, Gaily, he's probably still got a good 3 weeks of prayer left in his system."

Gail stabbed her spoon into the ice cream with more force than was necessary. "You're _really_ not helping, Sher."

Sherri made a noise of disgust in the back of her throat. "You really gotta lighten up about this. The man is considering quitting his job for you. And he works for God, may I remind you? I don't think you can consider two weeks _that_ long for a decision like that."

"You're right," Gail pouted. "It's just driving me crazy not knowing what he's doing or if he's even still thinking about me. What if he's already decided? What if he's already back but hasn't written? What if I never hear from him again."

"Then he's a jerk."

"He is not!"

"If he's gone through all of this, promised to write when he got back, and then never wrote to you again, then yes, he's a jerk. And a creep."

"Then he's not back yet because John is neither of those things. He's a wonderful man."

"See, there you go, then. He's still on his savatical or whatever."

"Sabbatical," Gail corrected. "I wonder what they do all day?"

"He's Catholic…that means he's certainly not having any fun."

"Why are you always so cynical?"

"Because it irritates you." Sherri grinned and got up from the table, putting her spoon in the sink. "Let's go do something fun. We start rotations at the hospital next week. I want to get out and do something before I'm up to my elbows in some guy's vomit."

"Let's go dancing." Gail offered with a smile, remembering her promise to John. "We can try out one of the clubs I've wanted to go to."

"Say! That's a swell idea! We should get our hair done too, really pamper ourselves."

"You go ahead. I don't need to look fancy."

"Gail," Sherri said putting her hands on her hips. "You've got to get out of this house and stop thinking about him."

"I know that, I just…"

"Just nothing, I'm taking you to get your hair done."

Gail sighed, but conceded. There was no arguing with Sherri sometimes. When she'd made her mind up, the matter was settled, period.

And so it went that two hours later Gail found herself with rollers in her hair sitting beneath a beehive-like hairdryer while someone buffed and painted her nails. She was not much of one for makeup or nail polish, and she was feeling like some sort of painted poodle. A little eye shadow and maybe a little lipstick every once in a while was about the extent of her efforts. She couldn't help but wonder what John would think of her if he knew she was getting gussied up for a night on the town. It was silly, but she almost felt like she was sneaking around on him. She knew it was stupid. He himself had told her she should go dancing…but that had been before he'd said he loved her.

"You're not supposed to be thinking about him," Sherri said from the chair next to her.

"How did you know…?"

"You've got that deer-in-headlights look on your face, Gaily."

"Oh, great…so that's how I look when I think of him? He'll never be able to doubt my feelings for sure." She replied sarcastically.

"What are you worrying yourself over?"

"I dunno…" Gail looked down at one painted hand. "I just wish he was going to be there. I wish it was going to be him I was dancing with."

"What's wrong with pretending the guy you're with is him?" Sherri smirked.

Gail rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

* * *

><p>John had spent much of the morning hiking along the river that ran through the property, following the course as it wound its way to some unknown destination. He used the river as a metaphor for his own life as he lost himself in thought. Some parts of the river were wide and smooth and you could barely even see the currents moving beneath the surface. Other parts were thin and the waters often moved more violently as the pressure built up at the narrowing edges of land. Eventually John came to a fork in the river and it was here that he sat to ponder. This seemed like an appropriate representation of where he was in his own life at that very moment. The last two weeks had been hell for him as he had tried to reconnect with God and heal his wounded spirit. He had found peace with everything that had happened in his life and gained a new understanding of his own nature. It had been a harrowing, but necessary experience thus far, but he did feel close to God again. What was still unclear to him, however, was where he went from here.<p>

John looked closely at the two separate paths of the river. The right side of the fork seemed calm and steady, with few bends and fewer rapids. The left side, however, seemed almost chaotic. There was a sharp bend around the fork that sent the water swirling around the corner, but beyond that John couldn't see where the river led. It was obvious that the left side of the river represented Gail—the unknown.

He looked back at the fork to the right. John knew that, should his sabbatical end that day, he could return to his office and continue life as a priest, confident in his convictions and able to serve God better than before. But…he would be giving up the possibility of a life with Gail. He wasn't as sure in his ability to forsake that.

Mulcahy knew better than anyone that the life of a man of the cloth was a life of sacrifice. He had sacrificed so much for God…could he sacrifice his love for Gail? John crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his knees as he folded his hands, dropping his forehead down against his knuckles with a bone-weary sigh.

"What should I do, Lord?" John asked softly. "The church, serving you…it has been my life, and it will continue to be if that is your will, but I…I love her, Father. Heaven help me, but I do. This is the hardest choice I've ever had to make. I know that I can still serve you in some capacity if I choose to be with Gail, but I made a promise to be faithful and serve you. What kind of man would I be if I broke my sacred vows?"

John pondered what he might do if the church refused to let him serve in the clergy. He had so little experience…or qualifications…with anything. The church and boxing were all he knew. There was no way he could go back to school for a new profession, but he didn't want to end up like the other men in his family. He didn't mind hard labor, but that just wasn't the life he imagined for himself.

John laid back in the grass, his hands under his head as he looked up at the clouds trying to picture himself in different vocations. He could type, though not well, so a job like Klinger's would be frustrating and slow-going until he found his feet. It had been so long since he'd coached boxing on any sort of professional level that he was fairly certain he'd never be able to make a substantial living off of that.

Maybe he could teach. John considered that option seriously. He was technically a teacher of the word of God, so he knew he would feel comfortable in that type of position, but what subject was he qualified to teach? Perhaps religious studies. Maybe even Latin. His alma mater, Loyola University, had a sister site in Chicago. If he was able to procure a position on the faculty, then he and Gail would be close while she finished her studies and residency. It was a very viable option, if he had the qualifications to be permitted to teach.

John sat up, feeling as though his heart had been touched and his path made clear. His next step involved talking to Gail, really discussing what she might want. He understood now part of her anger with him. It was all well and good for him to have confessed his feelings, but he hadn't exactly given her a say in anything. He'd just assumed she'd be okay with whatever he decided. Again, he was reminded of just how selfish he could be.

"I know what I need to do now," he said, looking towards the heavens. He bowed his head, giving his thanks to God for walking with him along his journey and for helping John find the answers he sought. He had no doubt that the revelation was from God, at least in part. Deep in his soul he felt that it was the right path to seek. John stood, brushing himself off, and smiled genuinely for the first time in what felt like ages. This part of his journey was complete.

* * *

><p>Gail felt strangely exposed as she and Sherri strutted into the club. Not only had Sherri insisted on getting their hair and nails done, but she had insisted on going dress shopping. Gail had really not intended to buy anything at all, but then she'd seen the dress she lovingly referred to as the ladybug dress. It was a brilliant red with black polka dots and a haltered top with a tulle rose just above the heart. The skirt was full and there was a wide black belt to cinch it all at the waist. She'd only meant to try it on, just to see how it looked, and she'd fallen in love with it. She'd have to take on some extra shifts at the hospital to offset the costs, but she loved the way it felt on her…she loved the way it made her feel.<p>

As she hoped, the live band was currently playing the sounds of swing and there was a mob of people tearing up the dance floor, while others sat at tables around the edge of the room, smoking, drinking, chatting, or just absorbing the atmosphere. Sherri led them over to an empty table as they both looked around.

"We should have come here ages ago."

"Excuse me," a young man around their age leaned over there table, looking between both girls. "My friend and I couldn't help but notice that you young ladies don't have any escorts."

"Are you offering?" Sherri smirked, obviously flirting.

"Well, we certainly can't have two beautiful girls just sitting here all night. Come on, let's swing!" he held his hands out to both of them but Gail shook her head.

"I don't know how."

"It's alright. My friend Johnny will teach you."

Her heart leapt into her throat. Johnny. Of _course_ his name would be Johnny. Gail shot a long suffering look at Sherri who merely shrugged. _In for a penny,_ she thought with a heavy sigh as she let herself be led onto the dance floor. John would certainly find humor in this. Luckily, Johnny looked nothing like John Mulcahy, so she could at least pretend his name was something like George or David or anything except Francis, John, or Patrick.

"Name's Johnny," the guy nasaled at her with a heavy Chicagoan accent that grated on her ears. "What's yours, doll?"

"Gail," she replied, suddenly regretting suggesting coming here. "I've never danced before."

"It's real easy, you just follow my lead, 'k?" He grabbed her hand and pulled her against him as he started moving to the beat. Gail had no idea what to do and felt as though she were trying to hold onto a fish. She shot a look towards Sherri, who was currently laughing and being twirled all around the dance floor. With a sigh, she tried to follow along with Johnny's steps, looking down at his feet to try and find some kind of pattern to what he was doing.

"That's it, toots." Johnny told her. At least he was kind, Gail found herself thinking.

After several songs, Gail felt that she had finally gotten the basics of the moves and was enjoying herself. Johnny wasn't much of a talker, which she didn't lament, but he was starting to get a little more grabby that she appreciated. Several times she'd had to physically remove his hands from certain areas. When the band had stopped for a break, Johnny popped her on the backside.

"Told ya, easy." He winked at her.

Gail glared but followed Johnny, Sherri and Sherri's guy-Friday to their table. "Around 10 o'clock they bring in another band and play some rock n' roll," Guy Friday was telling them. "Turns into a real gym floor sock-hop in here."

"Sounds like we came at the right time," Gail commented.

"Yeah, some of the bands have been pretty good, but Johnny and I typically bolt around that time. The crowd gets a bit younger then."

"The ones who ain't got a curfew," Johnny added with a stupid grin, as if he'd made some great joke.

"You should want, we can ditch this joint and go grab a few burgers, some cokes…"

"Gee, that sounds swell, but I've got to be getting home."

"Come on, Gail," Sherri whined.

"You go on ahead," Gail told her. "My feet are killing me."

"Come on," Guy Friday told Sherri, picking up Sherri's shawl and draping it over her shoulder. "There's a great little dive just a few blocks up."

"See ya, toots." Johnny said to Gail. She rolled her eyes as they walked away. He sounded like he'd stepped right out of the 1920s. Gail fully believed in the phrase 'trying too hard.'

After getting a cab ride home, Gail climbed the stairs to her small apartment and dug the key out of her bag. She could hear the phone ringing inside and hurried to push the door open and run across the floor in her heels to catch it. She nearly broke her ankle in the process.

"Oh!" She cried as she picked up the receiver, hobbling on one foot. "Hello?"

"Gail?"

Gail furrowed her brow at the masculine voice on the other end of the line. "Yes?"

"This is John."

_Oh no_, Gail thought. _Sherri gave the twerp our number_. "Uh huh," she said less than enthusiastic, hoping he would say his piece and she could get on with her life.

"Mulcahy." The man supplemented.

"Oh!" Gail's heart again leapt into her throat as recognition dawned. "Oh, John, I'm sorry…I thought you were someone else. It's a long story… what are you doing? I mean, you've never called before. Is everything alright?"

Mulcahy was laughing softly on the other end of the line, obviously amused by the fact that she hadn't recognized his voice. "Everything's fine. I just…well, there are some things I think we should talk about and it didn't feel like a conversation appropriate over letters."

She didn't like the sound of that. "Okay." She said slowly, as her throat closed up with emotion.

"If it's alright with you…I'd like to talk to you in person."

Was that alright with her? She wasn't sure she wanted him to see her cry again when he let her down a second time.

"That is…if you still feel the same way." John said softly at her hesitation.

She cleared her throat quietly, "Of course I do, John. And, yes…it'd be alright."

"I'm actually in Chicago now," he said. "I traveled here from Montana to see you."

"Montana?" Gail was trying to comprehend everything he was saying. "Wait, you're in Chicago? Where exactly are you?"

"Currently? The train station. You were the first call I made."

"It's lucky I got home when I did," Gail said with a small laugh. "Again, it's a long story. Listen, why don't you come to my apartment. My roommate is still out and probably will be for a while, so we'll have some privacy."

"Yes, I think that would be alright."

She told John to hail a cab and gave him instructions on which building was hers and that she living on the second story. "Are you hungry at all? I could try and cook something, though I'm not a very good cook."

"No, at the moment I'm not, but thank you. That's very kind of you to offer."

"Sure." She couldn't help but smile as she remembered how polite he was. "See you soon?"

"Quite soon, I should think," John answered with an obvious smile.

As Gail hung up, reality came swooping in and filled her stomach with butterflies. John Mulcahy was on his way here. She wanted to scream and throw up all at the same time. Hurrying to her bedroom, she wrestled out of the dress and found a pair of pedal pushers and a blouse. She hurried to hang the dress up and stuck on a pair of flats instead of her heels. She made a quick stop in the bathroom to wipe the red lipstick off her lips. Her hair was down around her shoulders, falling in soft spirals, pinned back at her temples, and she decided to leave that alone. Then, she hurried to the living room, straightening up as much as she could and tossing dishes into the dishwasher—thank God her apartment was modern enough to have that convenience! Before she could do anything else, there was a knock at her door. Gail stared at the door with mixed emotions. This was it.

Taking deep breaths, she went to the door and slowly opened it, almost afraid of what she might see on the other side of the stoop. She looked up and met John's eyes and forgot how to breathe. He looked as handsome as she remembered, though very different. She'd only ever seen him in black and/or drab olive green khaki, but he was currently casually dressed in a white button down shirt and black trousers. His black tie was hanging loosely around his neck and he'd unbuttoned the top two buttons of the shirt as well as rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. He had a suit jacket slung over one shoulder and a small suitcase at his feet.

She had meant to say hello, but what actually came out of her mouth was, "Wow."

John's head fell back as he laughed. Gail blushed furiously.

"I mean…wow, you look really different."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he smiled. Gail felt herself melting at the sight of that smile and couldn't help but smile back. "May I come in?"

"Oh!" she quickly stepped out of the way of the door. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry. This is all a little…unexpected. I'm just…I'm not dreaming, am I?"

"If you are, then that means I am, and if I am, my imagination has really run away with me."

Gail smiled again, glad to see he still had his same sense of humor. "It's really good to see you John. Is it okay if I hug you?"

John's smile was soft as he set his suitcase down just inside the door, draping his jacket on top of it. "I'm afraid if you don't, I will."

Gail smiled brightly and waited for him to stand back up to his full height before she flung her arms around his neck, dragging him down into a fierce hug. This time, she noticed, John didn't hesitate about hugging her back, or where to put his hands. His arms slipped easily around her waist. She could feel his warm hands on her back through her shirt. Oh, yes…this was lovely.

John was only about six inches taller than her, which put her face directly against his shoulder. She couldn't help but breathe him in, closing her eyes to engrain the smell into her brain. He smelled slightly of musk—probably from sweating on the train—and vaguely of aftershave. When she opened her eyes again, she felt his arms squeeze her a little tighter before he began to pull away.

"I hope you don't mind my showing up on such short notice," he said.

"No." She shook her head and gestured towards the couch, leading him over and sitting down so they could talk more easily. "It's funny; tonight I decided to go out to one of those jazz clubs I'd told you about—and promised I'd go to. Sherri, my roommate, had insisted we get all dolled up for it and when we got there this guy and his friend took on the challenge of teaching us how to dance. His friend's name—my dance instructor—was named Johnny. He was obnoxious. When you called, I had literally just walked in the door and I thought Sherri might have given him our number and that he was the one calling. I really did not want to talk to him."

"That explains why you sounded less than overjoyed to be hearing from me," Mulcahy said with a playful smile. "How was the club? I hope you had a good time despite an obnoxious dance partner."

"It was…I'd like to interesting, but that doesn't quite cover it. I learned a little bit, but Johnny Fast-hands kept putting his paws all over me and calling me 'doll' or 'toots'. If I see him again, it'll be too soon."

"Well, I'm sorry it wasn't everything you hoped for, but I am glad you were able to learn something from it."

Gail couldn't stand the foot and half space between them and she scooted next to Mulcahy, taking his hand and lacing her fingers with his. When he made no attempt to pull away, she smiled and relaxed a little. Last time she had tried to get this close to him, he'd very literally pushed her hands away from him. It was a nice change to be able to actually touch him without him shying away. "Tell me where you went, John. It feels like forever since your last letter."

"Well, like I explained, I did go on a sabbatical. To Montana. I'd never been there before, and I really needed to escape from all the industry of the bigger cities—the hustle and bustle, if you will. The church has a land sanctuary that lies at the foot of the mountains. It was unlike any place I'd ever been. I felt closer to God there than I ever have my entire life. It was hard to be surrounded by that much nature and not feel His presence."

As John spoke, his thumb began making lazy circles on the back of her hand and Gail smiled as she pulled her feet up under her, turning ever so slightly so that she could see his face while he spoke. His gaze was towards the floor, but she could tell by the crease of his brow that he was seeing the mountains of Montana and not the terrible shag carpet on her floor.

"I learned a lot about myself while I was there, about how petty and selfish I can be." He told her candidly. "It's quite difficult to think of yourself one way and be faced with the cold hard truth of who you really are, but part of the journey of a sabbatical is to discover your weaknesses and flaws so that you can grow personally, as well as spiritually."

John licked his lips and Gail watched him swallow before he continued on in a softer voice. "I found it almost impossible not to think about you while I was there, despite how much I tried not to. Almost every night I would sit on the front porch and stare up at the stars and think 'I wish Gail was here.' I'd wonder what you were doing and if you would have found it to be as peaceful there as I did."

"I love looking at the stars," Gail gently interrupted. John looked at her, surprised by the revelation, but smiled at her. "I never told anyone, but over in Korea, sometimes at night I'd find somewhere dark and quiet to sit so I could look at the sky. When I was a little girl, I used to dream about catching the stars in a jar, but then I took science in school and realized that they're massive balls of gas that would disintegrate me and my little jar."

John laughed in amusement. "Well, at least no one could say you didn't try."

"That'd be what they wrote on my headstone," Gail mused. "'Well, at least she tried.'"

They both dissolved into laughter and Gail shook her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get us off track. You were saying…"

"No, it's quite alright. I've truly missed hearing you laugh." John told her, trying to contain his mirth. When he finally got himself under control, he continued more somberly. "I struggled with my options the entire time I was there. I honestly had no idea which path was the right path, but I quite literally stumbled into some insight. I was following the path of a river and was lead to where it forked. One way, the water seemed clear and calm, while the other seemed more unsteady. I likened it to the choice I needed to make. The path of priesthood is known to me, it's pretty much the only vocation I've ever known, the only one I felt called to. The path of a possible life outside of that, a life that might contain you, is certainly more treacherous to me because it is one I have never traveled. I must have sat there for hours, staring at the river, asking God to guide me. It was then that I truly allowed myself to consider what would happen if I left the church."

Gail found herself holding her breath. She could feel John's hand shaking ever so slightly as he held hers tightly. "And?" Gail asked quietly.

"I think…though I have no guarantees, of course…that if I left the church, I would be called to teach. As it happens, my alma mater has a sister branch here in Chicago. Were I able to join the faculty, it would solve two problems in one—a profession and the distance between us."

Gail's eyes were tearing up despite her will not to cry. The fact that John had gone so far in his thinking was astounding. He was looking at her curiously, obviously trying to interpret her moist eyes. She smiled, and squeezed his hand tightly in encouragement to continue, letting a single tear escape down her cheek. John shifted slightly, turning towards her and bringing up his free hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away the wetness.

"I have no idea if I am even qualified to teach at a university, but…if this truly is the right path…then I feel that would be the best place for me to start."

"But the church…"

"Will still have me in some capacity—a volunteer or active member. I didn't come to this decision lightly, Gail. And the only thing that keeps me from going forward now is you. I couldn't exactly assume that you even wished to have a…courtship with me. And of course, there is the matter of your own schooling. I don't want that to suffer."

Gail beamed brightly, "How could it? With my determination and your connections, we're an unbeatable team."

Mulcahy returned her smile, pleased that she was repeating the words he'd once said to her.

"What happens if you don't get the job you want, John?"

"God will provide," he told her assuredly. "If it's not what I have in mind, then that's just God's way of telling me he's got something else out there."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." He said absolutely, searching her eyes. "But the question remains whether or not you're sure."

"Yes." Gail whispered, unable to find her full voice, but smiling at him all the while.

John leaned forward and tenderly placed a kiss against her forehead, his nose tickled by her short, curly bangs. He felt and heard Gail sigh as though she were breathing for the first time in several years. When John pulled back, she was looking at him as if she couldn't quite believe he was real.

"So, what happens now?"

"Well, I think most importantly we should take some time really getting to know one another as people, rather than as Father and soon-to-be Doctor. I will have to give my resignation to the church. And to Colonel Potter, of course," John told her, not looking forward to that particular part of it. "I can't exactly remain his chaplain once I turn in my Roman collar. I have a sinking feeling it won't be as easy to explain myself to him as it will to the church."

"You won't have to go in front of the pope or anything, will you?"

John laughed. "No, it's not quite like that. The Catholic Church is broken down into smaller…communities. We call them dioceses. Each diocese has their own board, as it were, that more or less makes the decisions for all the churches in that community. They also do the hiring and firing, so to speak, of all the clergy. I will meet with the members of my local diocese and tell them my present course and…that will be that."

"Aren't you sad at all?"

"A part of me is, of course, but I wouldn't be doing this if I had a shred of doubt that I didn't have God's full support in this. Besides, one doesn't have to be an ordained priest in order to minister to others. God will continue to work through me."

"Will people still call you Father?"

"Probably, but only the ones who have know me a long time. That title won't apply to me once I've turned in my resignation."

Gail blew out a breath and looked at John, feeling at a loss for words. There was so much to take in, so much to look forward to, so much to figure out about each other. "Well, where do we start?"

"I'm not sure about you, but now I am feeling a bit famished. I have to admit that I was too nervous to think about food before I came over here." He said sheepishly.

"You were nervous?" She asked incredulously.

"Well, I haven't exactly made a habit of breaking my vows for just anyone."

Gail blushed, but decided not to pursue that subject at the moment. "What are you hungry for? There's a terrific all-night diner nearby. I usually go there when I'm studying."

"That sounds wonderful. Would you mind if I use your washroom to freshen up just a little? I feel a little fatigued from the train."

"No, go right ahead. It's the first door on the left."

Gail watched John get up and walk down the hall, biting her lip to keep her face from splitting open. She couldn't believe this was happening. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming, but the front door opened, interrupting her thoughts.

Sherri immediately saw the suitcase and men's jacket by the door and she looked at Gail with a look of utter confusion. "What's this?"

"He's here," Gail said in a loud whisper. "John…he's here."

"The priest?" Sherri whispered back in disbelief. "What'd he say? How long has he been here? Where is he? Tell me everything!"

Gail quickly brought Sherri up to speed on everything and Sherri's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Have you made out with him yet?"

"Sherri!" Gail squeaked. "For goodness sake, he's still a priest until he resigns."

"Oh, pfft," Sherri waved off Gail's comment. "That's just a technicality."

"Well, John isn't like that regardless." She heard the bathroom door open and turned to look at John. "John, this is my roommate, Sherri. Sherri, John Mulcahy."

"I've heard a lot about you," Sherri said with a slight smirk.

"It's nice to meet you, Sherri."

"Well, if you kids will excuse me, I need a shower."

"We'll be back later," Gail told her, ushering John towards the door.

"She's quite different than I imagined," John noted as he waited for Gail to lock the door. "I recall one of your letters mentioned she was rather 'uptight.'"

Gail gave him a playful glare, noting the good-humored smile on his face. "You've only just met her. Give it time."

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

The café was busier than Mulcahy would have expected for being nearly 10:30 at night, but not so crowded that they weren't able to find a semi-secluded booth. They sat across from one another and Gail pointed out her favorites on the menu. When the waitress came by, Gail ordered a patty melt and a milkshake and an extra water.

"I'll have the same thing," John told the waitress.

"This is still so strange," Gail said as she looked at John across the table. "Sitting here with you. I had been preparing myself for your rejection since your last letter."

"I'm not sure I would qualify it as rejection if I had decided to continue on in the priesthood," John countered. "A priest is supposed to be in the world, but not of it—meaning once we've taken our vows, we don't get much choice in the matter of what we can and can't do. I've always been able to appreciate a woman's beauty, but that's as far as it could ever go. Lust is one of the seven deadly sins and is inherently forbidden for someone like me. That night in my tent with you, I realized that I was dangerously close to experiencing that particular sin in addition to having feelings for you that were also forbidden."

"Why, Father," Gail teased him with his designation. "I'm not sure if I should be offended or flattered."

John could feel his face turning red to the tips of his ears, and tried to continue on without feeling flustered. "Anyways, my 'rejection' then was out of fear and necessity. I was afraid of what I was feeling because I thought perhaps I was becoming far too negligent as a chaplain. The 4077th wasn't exactly like living in the rectory. Being surrounded day in and day out by sinning and debauchery can take its toll even on the holiest of men. I certainly never meant to hurt you, of course."

Gail rested her chin in her hand as she listened to him. He was such an eloquent speaker, and his voice—even when he was yelling—could only be described as melodious. His explanation, however, was still a non-explanation. It made sense of what happened back in Korea, but it didn't explain the here and now. "What's changed that you're not brushing me off like you did before?"

"I wish I could say for sure," John said honestly. "When I realized that I still deeply cared for you, I felt that maybe there was something there I needed to examine. It was still most disquieting to me, but…as Kathy pointed out to me…I hadn't quite been the same priest I was before I went to Korea. I think I'd been getting more and more discontent with my station as time went on. The realization of my feelings for you is what gave me the push I needed to go on sabbatical and really examine where I should be."

John took a sip of water as it arrived at their table before continuing his explanation.

"My life has always been about sacrifice. I understood and accepted that certain sacrifices were necessary. Of course, that doesn't always make it easy. I think a life of celibacy is one of the hardest vows for the clergy to maintain; humans are not meant to be solitary creatures. When I considered the level of my affections for you…I wasn't sure that I could make that sacrifice again."

Now she understood what he was getting at. What was rejection in her eyes was a sacrifice for him. He'd never really been brushing her off, so much as he was denying himself in order to stick to his vows. She had mixed emotions about that. It was flattering and a boon to her self-esteem that she could make a priest question his vows, but she also felt guilty for the exact same reason.

"You look conflicted," John observed, quietly.

"I'm just not sure what to feel right now. I mean, I'm not going to Hell am I? For making a priest leave the priesthood?"

John laughed softly but stretched his hands out across the table, palms up. Gail instinctively placed her hands in his, reveling in the warm of his hands as his fingers curled to hold onto her. "Of course not. Mostly because you didn't 'make' me do anything. There was nothing wrong with the way you felt…feel…for me. Two years ago was just the wrong timing."

The waitress arrived at that moment with their food, forcing them to let go of each other, and providing them with a small respite from such a heavy conversation. He bowed his head to say grace, then watched as Gail poured a puddle of ketchup over her French fries, letting the course of the conversation shift naturally.

"So, tell me more about yourself that I probably don't know." He said as she offered him the ketchup bottle.

"Anything specific you'd like to know?"

"Everything, eventually," he replied. "But I'll settle for whatever comes to mind right now."

She laughed softly. "Well, I think I told you that I grew up in Illinois?"

"Yes; in LaGrange, if I'm not mistaken?"

Gail nodded as she popped a fry into her mouth. "I was born right before the depression began. At the time, my father was working as a banker and my mother was a housewife. By brother Bobbie is four years older than me, so he remembers more of this story than I do, but I was about six, maybe seven when my father's bank closed and there were no breadwinners in our family. I think my parents tried to keep us in the dark about how bad things were, but I remember my dad going out every day trying to find another job. My mother found work cleaning houses and laundering other people's clothes—people who could afford that luxury, I guess. I remember there being no money and we often had only soup to eat, but other than that I just went to school like everyone else. It took my father almost a year before he found a job as a clerk in a law office. The lawyer—Mr. Allen—liked my father so much that he made him a paralegal on the condition that my father would go to law school and eventually be Mr. Allen's partner. Looking back on it, it was a really lucky break for us, and probably the only reason we made it through the depression. You must have been a teenager during the depression. What was it like for you and your family?"

"Well, I don't think there was a soul in this country who wasn't affected by it. Both of my parents worked to make ends meet, and by that time it was only myself and Kathy still living at home, though she was about to go off to college. My father worked in a printing press, so I helped deliver and sell newspapers for a few cents a day, which I gladly gave to my parents. When I was 16, they gave me a raise and let me help out on the floor assembling the papers. By that time, though I was getting more involved in amateur boxing, so I have to say that some of the money I earned was through fights. It's a good thing that Kathy and I were both athletic enough to earn scholarships. Otherwise no one in my family would have gone to college."

"It's hard to imagine you in a fight with anyone," Gail mused. "I bet you were the smallest guy in the ring."

"Most of the time, I was, but shorter stature can be a huge advantage in boxing. Smaller target." John smirked. "A lot of guys underestimated me, which worked to my benefit."

"How many times did you lose?"

"I actually lost a fair share," Mulcahy admitted. "But only when I was first starting out and learning my mechanics. I was really uncoordinated when I younger, so moving my feet and blocking and throwing punches all at the same time was quite difficult for me. But I eventually grew into it. Did you know that they once asked me to join Willie Pep's stable? "

"Why didn't you?" Gail didn't want to admit she had no idea who Willie Pep was, but figured it had to do with boxing.

"I very nearly did. I was training in the featherweight division, but ultimately my path led me to the church.

John watched as Gail bit into her burger, then realized she had turned the tables. "Hey! We're supposed to be talking about you, not me!"

She covered her mouth, trying not to laugh as she chewed, then answered as she swallowed. "We can do both, can't we? I want to hear more about you just as much as you want to hear about me. Ask me another question. We'll take turns."

John laughed and thought about what to ask. "What made you decide you wanted to be a nurse…and ultimately a doctor?"

"I've always been drawn to medicine," Gail answered, picking sesame seeds off her bun. "When I was little, I wanted to be a veterinarian and work with animals, but then Germany invaded Poland. I remember watching some of the footage of the war and the wounded soldiers, and my focus shifted to wanting to be a nurse and help out in the war effort. Of course, I didn't make it into the army until after the war ended, but by then war was breaking out in Korea."

"I think you would have made an excellent veterinarian," John commented.

Gail smiled at him and sucked ketchup off the end of one of her fingers. "So, you're Irish, right? Did your parents immigrate here?"

"Actually, my father's side is Irish. It was his parents, my grandparents, who emigrated here from Ireland in the late 1800s. They died before I was born, so I never got to know them. My father was born in Ireland, but raised in America, so I suppose he technically is an immigrant, too."

"I guess that explains why you're not a red-head." Gail mused.

John laughed. "Thankfully, no. I was picked on enough as a boy, I can't imagine being ginger on top of all of that. Though, oddly enough, all of my brothers are ginger. Kathy and I were spared from that fate."

"Do the Irish always give their children such long, insufferable names?"

She was teasing him and he blushed. "Only the ones born around an important day. Traditional Irish families like to honor past generations by naming sons and daughters after grandparents, uncles, aunts, etcetera. I was the sixth boy, so I was named after my father's second oldest brother, Francis. The order goes something like…first son is named after the paternal grandfather, second is named from the maternal grandfather, third after the father, fourth after the father's oldest brother, fifth after the mother's oldest brother, so on, and so on. There is a different pattern for girls, but luckily Kathy was the only girl."

"That's incredibly complicated." Gail blinked. "That explains Francis, but what about the John and Patrick?"

"Middle names don't have any true significance. They're more or less just whatever the parents decide on for the child. Thankfully, my mother's suggestion of John was what they agreed upon. Otherwise I would have been Francis Eugene Patrick Mulcahy."

Gail made a terror-stricken face and John couldn't stop from exploding into laughter. "Next time you speak with your mother, tell her I said 'Thank you.' I'm guessing Patrick, then, is because you were born on St. Patrick's Day?"

"Bingo." He smiled.

"So, what about your siblings; what are their names? Tell me about them."

"Well, the oldest is Fergal David. He's 11 years older than me. Next is Samuel Walter Cearan, the only other one in the family with a third name besides me. He was born on June 14th, 1908, which is recognized as a feastday for St. Cearan. Then there is Rowan Lewis. He's 8 years older. Then my brother Liam Paul is 7 years older, Clyde Thomas is six years older, and Kathy is 4 years older."

"What's Kathy's full name?"

"Mary Katherine."

"Your mother certainly didn't waste time between children, did she?"

"Well, I'm not sure they exactly planned it that way, but that's how it happened. They really had intended to stop once they had a girl."

"Ohhh," Gail said, understanding the implication. "I see. Well, I think they got the best of the bunch with you. I wasn't sure there was any name worse than Francis, but I would say Fergal takes the cake."

"I think he'd agree with you." Drinking a little of his milkshake, he wiped his mouth before his next question to her. "Now that you know nearly everyone in my family…what is _your_ full name?"

"Abigail Louise Harris. My mother started calling me Little Lulu when I was about 10 because she liked the 'Little Lulu' comic strip in _The Saturday Evening Post. _She still calls me that sometimes, and of course now that stupid character is everywhere, so anytime she sees something with Lulu on it, she sends it to me."

John laughed. He knew the comic well. He'd seen a few issues of the new comic series floating around at General General. "At least your name is much more concise. I think it's quite charming."

They smiled at one another before falling into a companionable silence while they finished their meals. John insisted on picking up the tab, and soon they found themselves walking back to Gail's apartment.

"Where are you staying tonight?" Gail asked as she held onto his arm.

"I honestly don't know," John said quietly. "I'm sure there's a YMCA around here somewhere."

"You could stay with me," she offered.

"Gail, I really don't think—"

"Nothing will happen, John. I just mean you could sleep on the couch if you wanted. It'd be easier than you trying to find a place this late at night."

"I'm sure Sherri might have a problem with that, and what about your neighbors. I'm sure having me around at this hour is sure to get the gossip going."

"John," she stopped and turned him so that he was facing her. "It's fine. Honestly."

He seemed to hesitate for several more moments before conceding with a sigh. "If you're sure..."

Sherri had obviously gone to bed by the time they made it back to the apartment, but Gail found herself nowhere near ready for bed. She could see that John was quickly losing steam though, and was stifling yawns whenever he thought she wasn't looking.

"If you'd like to shower I can get you a clean towel," she told him. "I don't think there's anything too girly smelling as far as the soap and shampoo."

He laughed softly. "Yes, thank you, that would be nice as I now smell like the grease trap in the diner."

She hit him on the arm playfully, gaining a grin. "I'll go set up the shower for you."

John dug through his suitcase until he found his pajamas, shower kit and toothbrush, then followed Gail into the bathroom, hovering in the door as she adjusted the water and laid out some clean towels for him. Once he was alone in the bathroom, John stripped out of his clothes and folded them neatly, laying them aside and removing his glasses before he climbed under the warm spray of the water, letting it roll down from his head to his feet.

This night with Gail had been everything he'd hoped it would be, and more. They were able to talk and laugh so easily that it was as if there had never been a moment between Korea and now. Talking about their families had really enlightened John on what kind of family life Gail had known. They seemed like good people, the type of people he might enjoy getting to know. He wondered if he would ever meet them. He assumed that if he and Gail began to seriously get involved, he would. Especially if he ever intended to ask for her hand in marriage.

John smiled as he thought about Gail's hands in particular. He'd always been a very tactile person, enjoyed touching others and being touched or hugged in return, but people had always shied away from any sort of physical contact with him because of his vocation. There seemed to be a taboo about simply giving a hug to a priest. Gail, however, had no qualms about touching him, and quite frankly couldn't seem to keep her hands off of him. Nearly all evening, except for when they'd been eating, she had held onto his hand, or his arm, and he quite enjoyed it.

Finishing in the shower, John dried off, put on his pajamas, brushed his teeth, and then returned to the living room. Gail was busy fluffing up a pillow when he emerged and she smiled at him. "Feeling human again?"

"In more ways than one," he answered in reflection of his earlier thoughts.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" she asked softly.

"Of course."

"Have you ever…kissed anyone?"

"You mean other than my mother?" he asked ruefully, hoping to sway this conversation from where he feared it was leading.

"Seriously, John. Have you?"

"Well…" he could feel his face flushing as she pressed the issue, and his stomach roil with nervousness. "Yes and no."

"Yes and no?"

"Well, I was the champion of spin-the-bottle by the time I was 12."

She looked at him incredulously.

"Honestly! I told you I was an easy target for the boys in my neighborhood, so most of my friends were girls. It was all completely innocent, really. Just children having fun; never any…intimate exchanges."

"So, by yes you mean you've kissed and by no you mean never intimately."

"Yes."

"Not even as a teenager?"

"I think I was more focused on working and boxing and my academics than I was with girls. I noticed girls, of course, but they never exactly noticed me. I was short and scrawny."

"And Irish." Gail teased.

John laughed softly. "Yes, and Irish. Though not a ginger."

Gail set down the pillow she was still holding and took a step towards him, her hands coming to rest on his chest. John could feel his heart racing as those large brown eyes looked up at him through her dark lashes and her hands slid up around his neck. He was about to open his mouth to protest when she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Her lips were soft and pliant, undemanding of him, but a firm pressure against his own. Mulcahy was startled into inaction, not sure if he should pull away or give in. There was no doubt he wanted to kiss her, but the fact remained that until he gave his resignation to the church, he was still a priest and this was still improper. But was he still a priest? If he'd already made up his mind to leave the priesthood, didn't that mean he'd given his resignation to God? God was the important one, in his opinion, and God—he felt—approved of his affections for Gail. He'd hesitated too long.

Gail pulled back, looking ashamed and on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry…I just thought…excuse me."

She brushed passed him, obviously trying to save face and run before she dissolved into tears, but John made a snap decision and caught her by the elbow before she could get away, and pulled her back to him. He cupped her face in his hands firmly, to keep her from trying to run again, and lowered his lips to hers. Her hands fisted around the material of his pajama top as she clung to him tightly. Though it was a rather chaste kiss, only involving lips, John could feel the raw passion licking at the edges of his brain. This had been denied to him for so long and he wanted more. Instinct spurred him on and he titled his head slightly as he tentatively opened his mouth and gently flicked his tongue against her lips.

This was unchartered territory for John and he was surprised by how soft and moist her lips were against his tongue, with only the slightest bit of friction. What was even more surprising was when Gail not only responded, but reciprocated. John shivered as her tongue tentatively struck forward, swiping against his bottom lip in a slow, sensual lick. He could feel her heart beating rapidly against his chest, and belatedly realized that he'd pulled her fiercely against him. She was breathing rather shallow, almost panting, each breathe a puff of air against his lips as they hung only millimeters from each other's lips.

"John," she breathed, lightly pushing against his shoulders. "I can't breathe."

Mulcahy relaxed his arms, but didn't completely let go. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead, John kissed her again. This time the kiss felt more natural and they both seemed to feel a shift in the atmosphere around them. John's head tilted slightly one way as Gail's tilted slightly the other and they simultaneously parted their mouths. His tongue ventured out once again, this time slipping beyond her lips to explore and caress the inside of her mouth. She tasted sweet, like the milkshake she'd had at dinner, and John was surprised by how soft everything felt against his tongue. He exercised caution in kissing her, trying to consider what she might or might not enjoy. It seemed to be effective. Gail's hands were restless on his body, running down his chest, up his back and over his shoulders and biceps. She was moaning very softly against his mouth, which was doing a number on his libido.

After a few moments of his exploration of her mouth, Gail took the reins and began to gently suck on his tongue. John shivered as a tingle ran down his spine. He couldn't believe that something so simple could feel so pleasurable. What was apparent, however, was that he needed to put an end to this soon before they were both in over their heads. He could feel his body naturally responding to her and the pleasure she was eliciting within him. He groaned, dismayed that this had to end, but finally pulled back.

Gail looked at him quizzically, but he smiled reassuringly at her.

"I need to slow things down a bit," he told her quietly. "This is all very new to me and…well, quite frankly I'm not sure I can control myself much longer."

Gail smiled softly and nodded in understanding. "I can see why you were the spin-the-bottle champ; you're a really good kisser, John."

John brushed a curl behind her ear as he gazed at her lovingly. "Well, I do have an extraordinary companion."

* * *

><p>Morning found Gail lying in bed, smiling softly as she thought about the previous night. It had been so very, <em>very<em> unexpected. From John showing up on her doorstep, to their lengthy goodnight kiss…she knew she had pushed him a little further than he'd felt comfortable with, but she was glad that he had taken the challenge. It had been obvious how much he'd enjoyed the kiss; she'd felt him become aroused. It had taken all her willpower not to jump on him at that point, but two things held her back: 1.) He was still a priest, even if just technically, and 2.) He was a devout Catholic who did not believe in premarital sex. That would lead to some very frustrating heavy petting sessions, Gail mused. Still, she wouldn't have changed a thing.

She wondered how long he would stay there with her, but knew that it wouldn't be long enough to make up for all the time they'd missed over the past few years. She knew he needed to get back to River Bend and start making preparations. She felt the butterflies in her stomach stir at the reminder of what they were embarking on. He was leaving the priesthood for a life with her. He seemed so sure of the path. It made her nervous. What if he found he didn't like her that much after all?

Gail pushed that thought aside and looked at her bedside clock. It was still only a little after six a.m. Quietly getting out of bed, Gail pulled her robe around her nightclothes and tiptoed out of her room and down the hall to the darkened living room. She could hear John breathing softly and evenly, signaling that he was still asleep. She stood next to his feet, watching him sleep. She wondered if he was a light sleeper or not. After Korea, she'd found that the strangest things would wake her up from a dead sleep.

As if sensing her presence, John's breathing changed slightly. "How long have you been standing there?"

She almost jumped at the sound of his voice, even as quiet as it was. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"You didn't," he assured her softly, reaching a hand out towards her. She took his hand, letting him pull her towards him. He shifted so that he was on his side, pressed all the back against the couch. Gail smiled and stretched out next to him in the small space that was left, pressing her back against his front. His arms encircled her from behind and she felt his nose nuzzle her hair before he buried his face against her neck. "What time is it?"

"Around 6:30. I couldn't sleep."

"Mm." Was his only response.

She could tell he was falling back asleep, and she smiled, closing her eyes and reveling in the feel of his body molded against hers. She almost wished that they had spent the entire night that way, but she doubted sleeping on that small space of the couch would have been very comfortable all night. Gail shifted slightly, slipping out from under his arm and she felt him stir once again.

"Would you mind lying on your back?" She asked softly. John turned on his back without questioning her why and she moved over him gently, laying half on her side, half on her front wedged against the back of the couch and him. He put his arm around her shoulders and shifted the blanket so that she was under it with him.

"Better?"

"Mm…much." She smiled, resting her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes. John pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his nose once again nuzzling her hair. She could feel his breathing even out once again, lulling her into a peaceful sleep along with him.

* * *

><p>When John woke up again, his right arm felt heavy and numb. Gail was tucked up against him, head resting heavily on his shoulder. He smiled and softly laughed as he realized she'd put his arm to sleep. His gentle shake of laughter was enough to make her stir and she lifted her head, looking at him with sleepy, confused eyes.<p>

"Hello." He said softly.

She smiled. "Hello yourself. What are you laughing about?"

"My arm's asleep."

She quickly sat up, pushing against his chest for leverage, and he immediately regretted saying anything. "Oh, John! I'm so sorry."

"No, it's quite alright. I don't mind."

They smiled at one another and she leaned in, giving him a chaste 'good morning' kiss before she climbed back over him and onto her feet. John sat up, shaking the feeling back into his arm as he watched her stretch.

"Did you sleep okay?" She asked with a yawn.

"Yes, thank you." He gave her a rueful look, blushing as he admitted, "Though I think I slept even better when you joined me."

"I think I did too," she smiled. "Are you hungry?"

"Not quite yet, though if you have some coffee…"

"I'm in med school, of course I have coffee!"

John laughed quietly and got up, folding the blanket he'd been using as Gail went to the kitchen to make coffee. He followed and sat at the kitchen table as he watched her. "I was thinking I might go by Loyola today. Perhaps making an inquiry in person might yield more positive results than corresponding by mail."

"I think that's a great idea," Gail agreed. "Might as well make the most of your time in Chicago."

"I plan to." He said as he looked at her meaningfully. Gail turned so he couldn't see her blush.

They drank coffee together and John finally asked Gail about her own religiosity in order to satisfy his curiosity in the matter.

"Well, I was raised Presbyterian," Gail told him as she considered her faith. "But honestly, I haven't attended Presbyterian services in a long time. I think I always intend to go, but lately it just seems like there's something else to do. Does that make me a horrible person?"

John smiled and softly shook his head. "No. I'm sure God understands."

"What are Catholic services like?" Gail asked, sincerely curious.

"Not much different than Presbyterian services. Just the structure of the church is different, I think. If I'm correct, Presbyterian's believe only in the sacraments of Baptism and the Holy Communion. Catholics believe there are seven sacraments. Baptism, Confirmation, Communion, Confession, Anointing the sick and giving Last Rites, the Holy Orders of those like me who were called to the Church, and matrimony. The primary teachings, of course, are the same. The Bible is the Word of God."

"Do priests go to confession, too?"

"Oh yes, of course! We may try to lead a life free of sin, but—as the Bible says—so long as we are on this Earth, we are not exempt from sinning."

"Are you going to confess what happened last night?" Gail's voice was soft and she stared at her cup.

John placed his hand gently over hers. "The thing about confession is…you have to be repentant, and…I'm not. I don't regret one single second about last night. I hesitated at first simply because I still consider myself to be a man of the clergy, but I realized that once I'd made up my mind about you, I'd—in effect—given my resignation to God. He's the one that truly matters. I had no convictions about kissing you."

Gail smiled brightly and leaned across the table to claim his lips in a long, slow kiss.

"Well, well, well…" Sherri's voice sounded amused and they pulled apart. "I'm almost sorry I went to bed early last night."

"Good morning, Sherri." John greeted, smiling as if nothing was amiss.

"Indeed, it looks like it is. I trust you slept well, _Father_?" Sherri smirked as she used his title, obviously finding this deliciously scandalous.

"Please, just call me John." He replied graciously.

Sherri poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down in one of the chairs next to them, eying them both with a knowing smirk.

"Oh, for God's sake, Sherri," Gail huffed, exasperated. "Nothing happened!"

"Mmhm." Was Sherri's only response.

"If you'll excuse me," John said, looking at Gail. "I think I'll get dressed. Daylight is wasting."

The two girls watched him collect some items from his suitcase before he left the room and Gail turned an annoyed gaze on Sherri. "Honestly, are you trying to mortify him?"

"What? I'm just having a little fun. How often do I get to tease a priest. He's not that thin-skinned is he?"

"No, but lay off, will ya? This is hard enough for him without you cracking jokes."

"So what did happen last night?" Sherri asked. "You guys were gone for ages."

"We went to dinner and talked for a while," Gail said with a wistful smile. "We talked about our lives growing up and he told me about all of his siblings, and…it was nice. We just really got to know more about each other."

"That's it?" Sherri asked incredulous. "You just talked? All night?"

"Not all night. But like you said, it was late when we got home. He slept on the couch, if that's what you're thinking, though."

"You didn't do _any_thing?"

"Well," Gail couldn't stop the blush.

"I knew it!" Sherri nearly shouted.

"Shh! Keep it down!"

"Did he kiss you first?"

"No, I kissed him. I thought I'd made a terrible mistake because he just kind of stood there like he was in shock, but when I pulled away, he grabbed me and started kissing me back." Gail smiled deviously at Sherri. "He's a really nice kisser for a priest."

"I guess he gets a lot of practice, speaking in tongues."

"Sherri!"

Sherri laughed.

As John came back in the room, dressed in a clean pair of slacks, shirt and tie, Gail couldn't help but look him over. Sherri was sniggering quietly as he rejoined them at the table.

"You look so different dressed like that," Gail noted as her heart pitter-pattered in her chest. He was possibly the most handsome man she knew, slightly crooked teeth and all.

"I feel different when I dress like this," he admitted. "My collar always feels a little too loose."

Gail laughed softly. "Did you want me to go with you today?"

"Oh, that isn't necessary. I'm not sure how long it might take, or even if I'll be able to meet with anyone, and I'd hate for you to be waiting around on me."

"I wouldn't mind." She shrugged. "I don't really have anything else planned today…except stopping by the hospital to request my rotations for the summer."

"How about you go request your rotations while I go see about speaking to someone, we'll meet back here and then we'll do something together for the rest of the day." He compromised.

"That sounds wonderful." She agreed.

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

John looked up at the administration building of Loyola University and said a silent prayer before he walked in. Having no idea where to start, John simply walked around, looking at the signs printed on the office doors until he came to the Office of the President. It seemed like a reasonable place to start. He pushed open the door and a man looked up at him.

"Good morning," the man said with a smile. "How can I help you?"

"My name is Father Francis Mulcahy," John said. "I was wondering how I might go about inquiring about a teaching position here."

"Certainly, Father. I believe Father Hussey has no appointments this morning. I can see if he might be available to meet with you."

"Yes, thank you." Mulcahy said, not quite sure who Father Hussey was, but glad that whoever he was might have time to meet with him. The man behind the desk stood and went through a door on the far wall with gold lettering that said "James T. Hussey, S.J.". Underneath his name read "President." Mulcahy found his throat suddenly dry.

After a moment, the first man returned. "Father Hussey will be happy to see you, Father."

Mulcahy thanked the man before crossing to the office. Father Hussey stood as Mulcahy entered.

"Lord be with you, Father." He greeted warmly.

"And also with you," Mulcahy replied automatically, crossing to the other man and reaching out to shake his hand. "Thank you for meeting with me this morning, Father."

"My pleasure. What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping to inquire about a teaching position," John reiterated. "I graduated from Loyola in Maryland where I received my Masters in Divinity before becoming an ordained Priest."

"What brings you to Chicago now?"

Mulcahy openly explained his current situation and decision to resign his holy position in order to be with Gail, and how he felt that God had led him here as a starting point. Father Hussey listened with rapt interest, asking questions about John's service with the church and his chaplaincy in Korea, and his experience in teaching before smiling kindly at Mulcahy.

"There are some of our staff who share similar stories," Hussey said. "Men who feel they are better suited to teach than to lead Mass. Others who feel they have been called away from the priesthood. Our faculty is a mix of both former and current members of the clergy."

Father Hussey folded his hands on his desk as he looked at Mulcahy. "The campus we're on right now is our Water Tower Campus. It was established in '46 and currently serves as home to several of our schools, including the Institute for Pastoral Studies. We've seen a great increase in students interested in religious studies beyond Catholicism and our current faculty is having trouble keeping up with the demand. I realize you're Catholic, but your experience as a chaplain and delivering services for other denominations makes you a great candidate to teach some of our newer courses in theology and religion. Do you think you'd be up to that challenge?"

"What do the courses cover exactly?"

"Well, primarily, our Introduction to Religious Studies is something we've been talking about making mandatory for all Pastoral Studies students. It's a basic introduction into the major world religions. Up until now it's been an elective course. I'd be glad to lend you a copy of the current text we use in the course."

"Sure. I'd like a day or two to review the material to make sure that I can meet your expectations in presenting the material."

"Absolutely." Father Hussey scribbled something down on a piece of stationary and passed it over to John. It was a short list of books. "Two blocks down is the library. Give this to Melba and tell her to check these out to you under my name. These are the primary courses I think you'd be well suited to teach."

"Thank you, Father."

"No need to thank me, Father Mulcahy." Hussey said with a warm smile. "I leave nothing to chance. God send you to me just as I needed to expand my faculty and you've got just the qualifications I was hoping for."

"He does work in mysterious ways," John replied.

"Indeed he does." Hussey laughed and stood. "Take your time with the material, Father. I'd like for you to be ready to start teaching come the start of the fall semester. You think it over and give me a salary range and we'll take it from there."

"Thank you, again. This is more than I had hoped for today."

"'And all things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive.'"

"Amen." Mulcahy murmured.

Father Hussey smiled again. "Amen."

* * *

><p>Gail was fanning herself with a folding fan she had gotten during leave in Tokyo. It had been one of her favorite keepsakes she'd picked up during her time in the army, and boy was it coming in handy as the temperature soared outside.<p>

"This heat is killing me," she told Sherri as she lounged on the couch in a pair of shorts and a tank top. "I hope John is okay out there."

"I'm sure he's fine," Sherri said as she painted her nails.

"It's almost 3 in the afternoon. What could he possibly be doing?"

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and Gail practically flew over the back of the couch to answer the door. John was holding several large books in his arms and he was sweating profusely.

"I nearly forgot how to get back," he admitted sheepishly as she let him inside.

"What's all that?"

"Study materials," he replied with a smile.

"I thought you were going to look for a job, not enroll in classes." Gail teased as John set the books on the table next to Sherri. She picked one up and read the title. "The Religions of Man?"

"These are for the courses Father Hussey would like for me to consider teaching in the fall."

Gail gasped excitedly. "They hired you!"

"Well, not yet. I told them I wanted a few days to make sure that I would be able to objectively present the material."

"But that's wonderful, John." Gail smiled. "I'm so happy for you."

"I hope your day was as fruitful as mine."

"I requested my rotations at the hospital and felt like I was going to melt in the heat, so I came back here."

"And she hasn't stopped talking about you since," Sherri chimed in.

Gail blushed but Mulcahy simply smiled at her. "Well, now that I'm here…what would you care to do?"

"You don't want to read your books?"

"I perused them a bit at the library. I'll read them a little more in depth before bed. What I'd rather do, though, is spend as much time with you as I can before I have to go back."

"When do you have to leave?" Gail asked sadly.

"In a few days," he told her. "It's unfair to keep my position at the VA on hold for too long when they could be spending this time looking for a new chaplain."

Gail frowned at him but nodded, knowing he was right. "Well, it's too hot to be outside. Do you want to play a board game?"

Sherri snorted quietly from the table and they both looked at her. "He's here for a few days, you haven't seen each other in 2 years, and you ask if he wants to play a board game?"

"I happen to enjoy board games," John remarked defensively.

Sherri groaned. "Well, I'm meeting Richie for a matinee."

"Richie?" Gail asked.

"From last night at the club." Sherri said, looking at Gail strangely. "You haven't completely forgotten about that, have you?"

"Well, I didn't exactly know his name," Gail said defensively. Sherri rolled her eyes and headed off to her room to get dressed for her date. Gail looked at John with a smirk. "Actually, I really did almost forget all about going to that club."

Mulcahy laughed and pulled Gail into a tight hug, angling his head down to kiss her lips. Gail opened her mouth against his, deepening the kiss as she reached up and pulled the knot of his tie loose, letting the silky strip of fabric hang from around his neck. Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and she nimbly began to undo them, making it to the middle of his chest before he pulled away from her kiss with a groan, his hands covering hers to still them.

Gail looked at his face and saw the tell-tale flush of arousal in his cheeks. She could feel his heart pounding inside his chest. _My, but he's easy to get a rise out of_, she grinned, leaning in for one more kiss before she turned and sauntered towards the closet where she kept her board games. Monopoly was on the top shelf just out of reach, and Gail stood on her tip toes, stretching to her full height to retrieve the game.

John swallowed hard as he watched Gail reach for the game. Her tank top rode up a little in the process, exposing her lower back and stomach. His eyes traveled down her small frame, from her bare arms and shoulders, to her exposed midriff, and down her bare legs to her bare ankles and bare feet. He felt the increasingly familiar pull of desire as he looked at her, but couldn't bring himself to look away.

"I get to be the dog," she told him as she brought the game into the living room and set it on the floor, kneeling down to set it up. "I'll put everything together if you want to change into something cooler. Do you even have casual clothes?"

"What?" His mind was still stunted by the image of her stretching and it took a minute for her question to process. "Oh…yes. I tried to pack for all occasions since I wasn't quite sure what Montana would be like, or how long I would be there."

"You know, John, you can keep your suitcase in my room if you want a little privacy. I don't mind if you change in there, too."

"Thank you," he told her softly, taking the luggage with him to the room he had yet to be in, but knew was Gail's. He closed the door and took a perfunctory look around. Her room was neither large, nor small, but seemed just right. She had a full-sized bed that was pushed against one corner under a window, and was neatly made. Along one wall was a vanity with a mirror that obviously served as a desk. As she had foretold in her letter, the picture of himself, Klinger, Soon-Lee and Colonel Potter was taped to the mirror. There were several other pictures as well, mostly women or children, and John assumed these were of Gail's family and friends.

He set his suitcase down out of the way and dug out a pair of button-fly white cotton/twill shorts and a short-sleeve blue gingham button down shirt. It was the most casual outfit he owned, and the lightest weight. He quickly changed, slipping out of his shoes and socks and deciding to follow Gail's lead and go around the apartment barefoot. When he emerged from the bedroom, Gail did a double take as she looked up at him.

"I had no idea you owned so many clothes," she teased, obviously pleased with his attire.

He sat down opposite her, crossing his legs as he selected a playing piece from the pile—the rider on the horse and he smiled. "I think I quite literally brought my entire wardrobe. Except most of the vestments of my office."

Gail laughed and they rolled the dice to find out who got the first turn. John won with a double six and Gail's jaw dropped. "If this is how your luck always is, you're going to railroad me!"

The game was friendly, but competitive. John quickly learned that she was a land shark, buying up as much property as she could and making investments in real estate. It seemed like each turn landed him on one of her spaces and he ended up owing her, which simply meant more investing for her and higher prices for him. After an hour, she owned over half the board and he was down to barely a few scraps of paper money.

"Are you sure you want to be a doctor?" He asked as he landed on the boardwalk and forked over the last of his money.

She smiled at him, please that she had won and fanned herself with the paper money, gloating. "Want to play again?"

He looked at the board and the numerous plots of land she'd amassed, and then looked back at her. "No. But if you have a deck of cards, I'd be happy to play gin rummy."

She tossed her head back with a laugh, and he smiled. Together they put away the monopoly board and various pieces. "Say, you play chess, don't you?"

"I do indeed."

"Will you teach me how to play? Sherri has a set, but doesn't know how to play it."

"Well sure," John smiled. "You don't think she'd mind us using it?"

"Not at all." Gail said, picking up the monopoly box and carrying it back over to the closet, retrieving the chess set. John laid out the board and they separated the black and white pieces into piles. He pushed the white ones towards her and picked up one of the black rooks in front of him.

"You'll notice that several pieces have a twin—two rooks, two knights, two bishops. The bishops and knights are minor pieces that you should use to try and get control of the center of the board. If you control the center, it's almost impossible to lose. They're minor pieces, but don't sacrifice them if you don't have to, use your pawns for that. Your queen is your most powerful piece, as she can move virtually any number of spaces in any direction. Your king is the most valuable piece. Lose your king and you lose the game."

Gail nodded, watching as he picked up each piece that he explained and placed on the board. She mirrored his placement on her end of the board.

"Piece movement is the trickiest part, in my opinion," he continued. "Each piece moves a certain way. The first time you move a pawn, you can either move it two squares, or one square, but each move after that it can only move once, and it can only attack on the diagonal."

Gail watched him give a visual example of how pawns moved, entranced by the sound of his voice as he instructed her. She nearly forgot to pay attention to the actual words…

"Should a pawn make it all the way across the board, then it can become a piece of the player's choosing, except for a king or another pawn."

John explained each movement, giving visual examples, discussing a few of his own strategies and covering the general rules of the game. They played a mock game, in which they talked through what piece they planned to move and why. John made her think of the end result of capturing the king and visualize how she would get there. Though he tried to be easy on her, he had taken nearly all of her pawns, her bishops, a knight and both her rooks.

"This is not going well." She sighed.

He chuckled softly. "You have to visualize the end goal while anticipating my moves. Always know where your enemy is and calculate the moves those pieces could take. Don't move into a space if it's an easy target."

He gave her back her pieces and they started again, this time he warned her against making bad moves until he noticed her start to pay closer attention to the game, her face set with determination. He was so busy concentrating on her moves that he forgot to take his own advice and was surprised when she looked up at him with a curious expression.

"I could move my knight and take your king, couldn't I?"

John looked at the board, noticing that she could indeed take his king. They had gone straight from check to checkmate. "Hmm…I haven't made a rookie move like that in a long time."

"You mean you didn't just let me win?"

"I admit I was taking it easy on you, but after a while you started to get the hang of it. I think I was paying more attention to what you were doing than what I was doing."

"Well, let's play again!" Gail said, setting up her pieces. "I want it to be a fair game this time."

"Would it be alright if we took a break to get something to eat?" John asked. "I just realized that I haven't eaten all day."

"You didn't have lunch while you were out?" Gail looked worried.

"I've been too preoccupied to think about food," he admitted.

"What would you like? I make a mean grilled cheese sandwich." She smiled, gaining a laugh.

"I hate to trouble you."

"It's no trouble, honestly. It's one of the few things I can actually make."

He acquiesced and followed her into the kitchen, intent on lending a hand, but only seeming to be in the way as he had no idea where anything was in her kitchen. She pressed a hand to his chest and pushed him backwards until he was seated at the kitchen table, then went about making them both a sandwich. She put a pickle spear on each plate as well as a handful of potato chips, poured them each a glass of milk, then delivered it all to the table.

"I could have at least poured the milk," he offered meekly.

"No need," she told him with a smile. "It's nice to cook for someone other than me and Sherri. Not that this can exactly be considered cooking."

"Well, I think it's great."

"You haven't even tasted it yet," she pointed out.

John took a bite, chewed and swallowed, then repeated. "Well, I think it's great."

Gail dissolved into a fit of laughter.

After they ate, they returned to their chess board and played several more games, each winning as often as they lost.

"This will be the tie-breaking game," Gail announced. "What do you want if you win?"

John thought for a long moment. "Ice cream."

She smiled and laughed softly. "If I win…I want a neck rub."

They shook on the deal and played. John hadn't intended on letting Gail win easily, but after several moves, he quietly admitted that she had picked the game up very quickly and was effortlessly beating the pants off of him.

"Check." She smirked.

John held her eyes with his as he placed his pointer finger on his king and tipped it over. She looked at him oddly as he pushed up on his hands, leaning across the board and claiming her lips. This kiss was different than all the others they had shared. It was slow and soft and sensual; sexy. When it came to a mutual end, they both found themselves breathless, looking at one another for several moments with smoldering looks until Gail practically launched herself at John across the chess board.

He yelped in surprise as she tipped his balance, causing him to topple over onto his back with her landing on top of him, chess pieces scattering like shrapnel. Gail was kissing him fiercely, her body pressed fully against him. The warmth and weight of her felt delicious and John's hands slipped just underneath the hem of her shirt, palms pressing flat against her back.

This was definitely new territory. He'd felt her skin before, but nothing quite as intimate as this. Before he fully realized what he was doing, John held tightly to Gail and rolled them over so that she was now beneath him. He felt almost dizzy or intoxicated or both, all inhibitions fleeing from his mind as his fingers brushed against her stomach and danced over her sides, grazing upwards under her shirt until he felt the satiny material of her undergarment. Gail drew in a sharp, anticipatory breath, but John's hand faltered and his eyes snapped open. Gail opened her eyes as well, feeling him freeze above her.

"John…Johnny," she reached up and touched his cheek when his eyes didn't readily focus. He was holding his breath, and she could tell he was trying to work out how many Hail Mary's it was going to take for him to repent for this small slip. "It's okay…it's okay."

He carefully extracted his hand from beneath her shirt and sat up, blushing furiously. "I'm sorry, I…don't know what came over me."

Gail sat up as well, readjusting her clothing. "Well, I'm partially to blame. I did attack you."

He couldn't help but smile at her jocular interjection, but felt discomfited by his own lack of true remorse in the matter. What was the matter with him? This type of behavior was wholly unacceptable and quite unbecoming for a man in his position.

_What position is that, exactly?_John's traitorous mind piped up, unsupportively.

They busied themselves with cleaning up the chess game and John put it away as Gail went to the kitchen and spooned them both several scoops of ice cream. She carried both bowls into the living room and handed one to John.

"You won, not me," he reminded her.

"I say we call it even," she smiled. "Besides, you made me want ice cream."

He laughed gently and watched as she turned on the small television set. An episode of the Colgate Comedy Hour was currently on, but neither of them gave it more than a passing glance as they settled onto the couch.

"Do you have any nicknames?" Gail asked out of the blue.

John gave her a curious look. "Nicknames? You mean other than 'Father' or 'Padre?'"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I mean, I nicknamed you Johnny, and you told me that's what your mother calls you, but what do other people call you?"

"Kathy used to call me Johnny when I was little, mostly influenced by my mother, but as we grew older she started calling me Francis, mostly because that's what I used in school and to introduce myself to others. I suppose I never really felt like a John. John was such a strong, confident name, and I was neither of those things. I suppose after that, I just simply became 'Father.' And…well…nevermind."

"What?" She pressed, observing the blush that invaded his cheeks.

Hesitantly, he admitted, "When I first arrived in Korea, I was a bit unsure of myself—always nervous and overwhelmed. One day I accidentally had a little too much sacramental wine trying to calm my nerves—it was all I had at the time. Hawkeye and Trapper of course egged on my humiliation and coined the nickname 'Dago Red' for me."

"Dago Red?"

"It's a type of wine commonly used for communion," he explained. "For ages they referred to me as nothing but Dago or Red, but like most things, the humor eventually wore out of it and they stopped using it."

Gail was quietly laughing, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I kind of like Dago. It seems…fitting. In a mischievous sort of way."

John laughed, his cheeks reddening even further. "What about you? Any wild nicknames?"

"Well, you know about Little Lulu. It's hardly wild, but that's really the only thing people call me besides Gail. Sherri calls me Gaily sometimes but mostly to annoy me, I think."

"Dago and Lulu," John said thoughtfully. "We sound like a couple of hooligans."

"We could be the next Bonnie and Clyde," she mused. "Outlaws. Renegades."

He laughed. "Well, maybe we could take a less criminal approach to being renegades."

"You take all the fun out," she kidded, sliding off the couch and onto the floor, scooting over so that she was sitting between his legs. "Come on, Clyde…I believe you owe me a neck rub."

John laughed, leaning down to set his now-empty bowl on the floor so that it wouldn't get knocked over. He gently gathered her curly locks, letting them spill between his fingers and watching them recoil slightly, the curls acting like a spring, before he gently pulled her hair away from her shoulders. Gail reached up and twisted her hair into a loose knot and John found himself impressed that most of it stayed. He laid his hands gently on her shoulders, his thumbs absently stroking her neck before he began to knead the muscles beneath his fingers.

"Oh," Gail breathed in a half moan. "That feels wonderful."

He continued to rub her neck, shoulders and upper back for the better part of half an hour until his hands began to cramp and his fingers ached. He was loath to stop, as he was eliciting some of the most breathtaking sounds from her he'd ever heard; some might even describe them as indecent. To John, it was yet another new experience. His hands had provided healing and comfort, had blessed and anointed, and had offered Last Rites and communion, but they had never pleased anyone quite like this.

Gail could feel his hands growing tired and she reached up to clasp them in hers, kissing each fingertip and nipping lightly on the pad of his thumb. She turned around, using his bare knees for leverage as she got onto her knees before him. Mulcahy swallowed dryly, already feeling aroused from the extensive neck rub he'd given her. She looked up at him, lips slightly parted, eyes searching for his. He didn't know how, but John knew that Gail was waiting to be kissed. He'd heard that lovers often began to learn to read each other's signals over time, perhaps this was simply part of that…either that or pure lust on his own part. He refused to accept the latter and closed the distance between them, granting her another long, ardent embrace.

Kissing Gail was becoming like second nature to him, but it was also growing more and more dangerous with each gently stroke of tongue against tongue. His desire for her was evident in the pounding of his heart, the forceful pumping of his blood through his body, and the primal bodily reaction of a man to a woman. Never in his entire life had John felt more sexually frustrated than he did with Gail.

He knew he needed to find a way to control his urges, but he had no idea how. Previously, he would pick up his Bible and read relevant passages that reminded him about celibacy, abstinence, and purity, but as priest, he never had to face temptation while lip-locked with a beautiful woman. Practical application of the Word of God seemed impossible in this situation. He needed to adapt, or he would be forced to abstain from even the simplest acts of love.

As if the Devil himself was toying with John's will, Gail slowly pulled herself onto his lap without ever breaking the kiss. John felt his heart skitter to a halt as she straddled his legs, her hands braced against his shoulders. He groaned involuntarily as her weight settled deliciously against his erection, blanking out all thoughts of purity and propriety. Gail had obviously felt the hardness between her legs, as she echoed his groan and slowly rolled her hips in a small circle.

With every ounce of resiliency he had left in him, John gripped Gail's waist, holding tightly to keep her from moving against him. His lips broke away from the kiss as he panted breathlessly, burying his face in against her neck and squeezing her tightly with every muscle in his upper body.

Gail bit her lip in discomfort as John's fingers squeezed her waist tightly. She wondered if there would be bruises later, and fought not to smirk as she imagined having to explain them, were they ever seen. She was about ready to give up on their make-out session when she felt John's lips brush along her neck. She shivered slightly at the soft touch, smiling as he nuzzled her with his nose before planting tender kisses along the underside of her jaw.

"You okay?" She asked weakly.

"Mmhm," came the uncharacteristically sultry reply as Mulcahy continued his ministrations. Gail felt the deep timbre of that assurance travel straight down her spine and into her belly, filling it with warmth that seemed to seep out between her legs. She blushed furiously, realizing immediately that he had made her wet. Up until now, Gail had only felt the urge that accompanied arousal, but never the physical evidence.

Suddenly, Gail knew how Mulcahy felt. She was torn between telling him to stop and begging him for more. She wanted to press herself back down against his erection and grind them both into a state of oblivion. She could feel her body trembling slightly in response to the building desire, her breath was coming in shallow gasps.

"J-John…" she breathed. His lips pressed against the hollow of her neck. Her skin felt like he'd just set it on fire. She pushed back against his chest and he looked up at her with a smoldering look in his piercing blue eyes. She shivered. "I don't want to stop," she admitted, collapsing back down against him and nuzzling his neck with her nose and lips, gently nipping at his skin.  
>He made an odd noise in his throat that resonated with her. He obviously didn't want to stop either, but one of them had to be strong and Gail knew it wasn't going to be her. He took her shoulders and gently eased her up so that their eyes met again. This time, the smoldering look was gone and replaced with the grace and spirit of Father Mulcahy.<p>

"'There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.'"

She smiled softly. He was quoting the Bible, and by doing so, giving them both a graceful way out of their predicament. She leaned in, pressed her lips to his with one final kiss, and removed herself from his lap.

* * *

><p>Gail had gone to take a shower and John gathered up the books he'd borrowed, stretching out on the couch and flipping on a lamp to read by. He picked up the text book for Latin 101, an introductory course into learning the language, and flipped through it idly. He could certainly teach Latin, cum lapsio, in his sleep. Foreign languages were a hobby of his and Latin was an absolute must for a Catholic priest. The lesson plans in the book seemed relatively straight forward. He'd probably used some edition of this book back when he was taking the basics of learning Latin.<p>

He picked up the next book and looked at the table of contents. _Religions of Man _looked fascinating. He wished he had actual time to sit and read it cover to cover, but perhaps he would get that chance soon enough. Each chapter dealt with a different religion—another topic of fascination for Mulcahy—and outlined the specific beliefs, practices, and divine law within. He remembered visiting with the Buddhist monks in Korea and observing their practices and ways of life. It was so different from Catholicism, yet so very beautiful and peaceful. John was very strict about upholding all the Commandments, especially number one on that list, but he'd found himself drawn to Buddhism and considered it a very viable religion should his faith in Christ the Lord ever come into question.

As he flipped through the last book in his stack, Gail emerged from her shower with wet hair and a robe. Mulcahy moved his feet so that she could sit next to him, swinging himself upright on the couch.

"You know, I'm rather looking forward to teaching these classes. They're all subjects that interest me greatly, and I've had quite a bit of practical experience with the rituals of other religions. I think I would be able to adequately present the material."

Gail smiled. "I didn't have any doubts."

John watched a drop of water drip from the end of a wet curl onto Gail's clavicle before it rolled down between the valley of her breasts, its exact path obscured from his vision by the soft material of her robe. The tell-tale sign of desire tingled its way down his spine, seeming to go straight to his loins. Damn, but this was infuriating! If God wasn't supposed to give him more than he could bear, why did the two of them find themselves in increasingly difficult situations? The lateness of the hour at least provided him some excuse and he feigned a yawn.

"I think perhaps I will call it a night," he told her. "It's been quite a day."

She nodded in agreement. "I'm surprised Sherri isn't home yet. I hope she doesn't wake you when she comes in."

"Do you think she's alright?" John asked with genuine concern.

"Oh, I'm sure she is." Gail waved him off, then leaned in to give him a kiss. "Would you like to get your pajamas from your suitcase?"

"Oh!" John had nearly forgotten about stowing his luggage in her room. "Yes, thank you."

While John went after his pajamas, Gail made up the couch for him, arranging the pillow and blanket so that he would be comfortable. When he came back, he set his pajamas on the end of the couch and pulled Gail into a warm embrace, kissing her gently.

"Goodnight, Dago," she smirked up at him.

He laughed gently. "Goodnight, Little Lulu."

John waited for her to disappear into her bedroom and close the door before he wandered back down the hall to shower, shave, and put on his own pajamas. As the warm water cascaded over him, he couldn't help but reflect on the day, once again reminded of their magnetic physical attraction.

John had half a mind to get married the next day just so that he wouldn't have to worry about not being able to control himself. The Bible did say that if a man and women could not control their urges, they should wed. Other passages relating to marriage cycled through his mind as he rubbed himself down with a washcloth and soap, and brought one burning question to mind.

Was Gail a virgin?

John wasn't entirely sure. The way she'd moved against him earlier suggested she might not be, but as with a lot of things regarding Gail, he wasn't sure he minded that much. Perhaps it would be best for her to have experience in the ways of physical intimacy…someone ought to, right? He wondered if he'd have the courage to ask her outright.

Climbing out of the shower, Mulcahy dried himself off, brushed his hair and teeth, and dressed. He realized he had no where to put the clothes he'd been wearing and he frowned as he considered waking Gail to put them in his suitcase or simply leaving them out somewhere. The thought of being untidy in someone else's home made his skin crawl. He left the bathroom and stood in front of Gail's door. He could see no light coming from under the door and could hear no sounds. He raised his hand, hesitated, then softly knocked. There was no reply. He knocked again, only slightly louder, and turned the handle. The door swung in slowly.

"Gail?" He queried softly into the darkness.

"Uh?" Came a sleepy reply. He'd woken her.

"I'm sorry to wake you," he said gently. "I just wanted to put my clothes away."

"Wha…?" Her sleep addled brain was slower than normal. "Oh, sure, go ahead."

John smiled, quietly musing that Gail must be one of those people who fell into a deep sleep quickly. He tiptoed across the room, unzipping his bag as quietly as possible, placing his clothing inside, then zippering it back up. He stood and turned back to the door, seeing that Gail was now sitting up in her bed. He felt truly bad for waking her.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he said softly, crossing the room and reaching out to caress her face.

"Stay with me," Gail murmured sleepily, rubbing against his hand with her cheek. John silently wondered if maybe she wasn't still half asleep. "I'll keep my hands to myself."

The offer was very tempting, but John wasn't sure he could keep his own hands to himself. He opened his mouth to politely decline when she turned her face up to look at him.

"Please, John. Just for tonight."

He simply didn't have the strength or energy to say no anymore. "Alright," he sighed heavily.

Gail scooted across the bed to make room for him, drawing the covers back. John slid into the bed next to her and arranged the pillow behind him before he laid back, pulling the covers up around him. The window over her bed was open enough to let a cool breeze in and John took off his glasses, laying them on the bedside table as he watched the curtains gently wafting in the night wind. Gail nudged his arm until he put it around her shoulders, drawing her against his side. She sighed contentedly, cradling her head in the crook of his arm and draping an arm around his middle. He rested his head against hers, and mirrored her sigh.

They lay there for a long while but John could only hover on the edge of sleep. He wondered if Gail was still awake. She'd been still and quiet since settling against him.

"Gail?" he murmured gently.

"Mmhm?"

"Can I ask you a…personal question?" He hesitated for a moment, not sure what difference the answer would make…if she even answered it.

"Sure." She replied sleepily.

"Are you a…that is to say, have you ever…" John's face was growing hotter by the second as he tried to phrase the question delicately.

Gail lifted her head to look at him in the darkness. "Am I what?"

"A…virgin?" He finally asked with a sigh.

"Oh," came the reply. "Yeah. Aren't you?"

"Of course!" He said, louder than he'd intended. He felt her chuckle softly at his outburst. "Forgive me…I mean, yes, of course I am. I thought that much was obvious."

"It is," Gail laughed softly. "But I thought it would be rude not to ask you after you had the courage to ask me first."

He smiled at her in the darkness, kissing her forehead. "Goodnight, Gail."

"John," she said gently.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He closed his eyes, smiling happily. "I love you, too."

* * *

><p>TBC<p>

cum lapsio – Latin for "with gusto"


	6. Chapter 6

When morning came, Gail was still curled up next to him, sleeping soundly. John took a moment to soak in the feeling of properly waking up next to someone he loved. Yet another first for him. This was turning out to be quite the week of new experiences.

As he lay there, idly stroking the soft skin of her arm, John knew that it was time for him to go. As much as he wanted to stay with Gail and spend every moment with her, there were things he needed to do, preparations to be made, and temptations to avoid. He quietly made his plan: he would return to see Father Hussey, agree to the teaching position, and then travel home to River Bend. The trip itself would take the better part of the day by train. He felt tired just thinking about it.

With a sigh, John gently turned on his side to face Gail, brushing her hair back from her face as he kissed her forehead. Gail stirred, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. It took her a second to realize where she was and who was with her, but she smiled brightly up at him.

"Morning."

"Hello." He said quietly, propping his head up on his hand.

"Have I mentioned how handsome you are without your glasses?" She asked as she reached up to touch his face.

He smiled and watched her stretch, filled with sadness once again at the news he would have to break to her. "Gail…I think I should try and leave today. I have so much I need to do, but the longer I stay here, the longer those plans get put off."

She sighed, echoing his sadness. "I wish you didn't have to go, or that I could come with you. I start my rotations on Monday."

"I can't be sure when I'll be back. Once I've resigned everything, I'll have nowhere to go. The downside to being a priest is that you have no possessions, I suppose."

"You could always come back here," she offered.

"That's very kind of you, but I've imposed too much as it is. Besides, I have enough bad marks on my record for staying with you the last two nights."

Gail understood his meaning; how his visit was considered inappropriate, possibly even sinful, but it wasn't like they'd done anything…major anyways. She tried to think of a compromise.

"I'll talk to my landlord, see if there are any apartments coming up for rent soon, and I'll keep any ear out for any other places."

John nodded. "That would be very kind of you."

Gail laced her fingers with his free hand. "In Korea, did you ever think in a million years that you would be lying in bed with me, about to leave the priesthood?"

John felt himself blush. "There may have been one or two stray fantasies, but I never entertained them as true possibilities."

"Is it silly that I know I want to marry you?"

"No sillier than the fact that I know I want to marry you." He confessed.

She beamed. "How are we going to explain that to other people? 'We met in Korea when he was priest and knew each other for about 9 weeks, then lost touch for 2 years and wrote each other for a couple of months before he decided to leave the priesthood for me, and after a day and a half we just knew we would be married.'"

John laughed. It did sound crazy, but did that make it any less real? "I don't care what anyone else thinks," he finally told her. "I've always been truly happy with you, as a friend…and now. I can't imagine there being a time when I would feel disappointed in my decision to be with you."

Gail leaned up and kissed him soundly. "Can I at least take you to breakfast somewhere before you go?"

"I'd like that." He smiled. "I still need to return the books I borrowed, and accept Father Hussey's offer before I leave, perhaps we can do that whilst we're out."

"Sure. We can go by the train station and book you a ticket, make sure there will be a train leaving today and find the time."

With the plan made, they got out of bed and began getting ready. Breakfast was a cheerful affair as they had eggs and pancakes and sausage and coffee, and talked about the future. The near future was so uncertain for John, but he knew that at the very least he would be back in Chicago by August to begin preparing for his new role teaching at Loyola University.

Mulcahy was excited to be embarking on this journey, and even more excited that Gail would be with him every step of the way…at least in spirit when not directly beside him. He had no doubts about his path, no regrets. Life was about learning to adapt and living in a way that was pleasing to God. A priest was simply one of the man hats—or collars—that John would wear in this life, much as he wore the hat of a son, a brother, a friend, and soon, perhaps, a husband and teacher. He felt very blessed and knew that luck had nothing to do with how his life had turned out.

* * *

><p>General General was its usual bustling self when Mulcahy finally arrived back after nearly a month on sabbatical. He strode through the hallways, suitcase in hand, and greeted several of the patients.<p>

"Welcome back, Father!" Several people had said along the trek. Mulcahy didn't quite have the heart to them that he would soon no longer be a priest. He made his way to his room to put his luggage down—he would pack the rest of his belongings later—then he headed off to find Colonel Potter.

"Say! You're back!" Max Klinger's thrilled voice found John instead and he quickly found himself on the receiving end of a rather hard clap on the back. "How was your trip? We sure missed you around here."

"It was…eye opening." Mulcahy managed, trying not to cough against the air that Klinger had forced from his lungs. "I'm afraid I need to see Colonel Potter as soon as possible, do you know where he might be?"

"He's in surgery right now," Klinger said. "Is something wrong?"

"Well…I don't know quite how to say this, Klinger, but—"

"Mr. Klinger," a curt woman's voice cut Mulcahy off. Both mean turned to see Alma Cox striding their way with clipped steps as short as her tone of voice. "I asked you to file these records two days ago."

"I did." Klinger replied innocently.

"They were crammed in the bottom drawer of your desk." Mrs. Cox replied, nostrils flaring unattractively.

"But I knew exactly where they were; and so did you, since you found them." Klinger pointed out.

"Do it again," she said, shoving the papers in his hands. "Correctly this time!"

Mrs. Cox seemed to notice Mulcahy for the first time. "Oh, pardon me, Father. I didn't recognize you." She said simply, noticing that he was not in typical priest attire before turning on her heel and stomping back towards the main office.

"I hope her heel breaks off," Klinger muttered.

"Klinger," Mulcahy said reproachfully.

"Sorry, Father." He shifted the papers to one hand, then remembered that Mulcahy was about to tell him something before Alma Cox had stuck her nose in his business. "You were saying?"

"Oh, yes…well…" Suddenly the hallway of a VA hospital seemed like not the right place for this conversation. "It's not important."

"Well, if you need me, I'll be finding a new place to stash these."

Mulcahy shook his head as Klinger wandered off, and decided to visit a few of the patients and residents of the hospital until Potter was available. Several of the more colorful characters whistled as they saw John.

"Gee, Father, I didn't know you had your own threads."

John laughed softly, looking down at his casual slacks, button down shirt and tie. "Yes, well, I'm off duty today."

"I didn't think a priest got a day off," another man said, coming up to lean on Mulcahy's shoulder, taking the weight of his crutches.

"Well, technically speaking, we are always on, but…well…I'm afraid that I won't be serving as Chaplain here for much longer."

"Say what?"

"You leaving us, Father?"

"I'm afraid so, though I haven't told Colonel Potter yet."

There was stunned silence for a moment before someone finally ventured. "You got a better gig somewhere else?"

"I'm…leaving the priesthood." Mulcahy admitted.

The men gathered around him, looking shocked and worried and drawing closer for the scoop.

"It's a girl, isn't it?" Said the one leaning on his shoulder.

Mulcahy looked up at him, unable to stop the flush from invading his cheeks.

"Father Mulcahy's got a girlfriend," another piped up, gaining cheers and whistles.

"Now, fellas," John held up his hand to stop them from saying anything further.

"What's her name, Padre?"

"Hmm?" John asked, as he was interrupted, but the question sunk in about the same time. "Oh…um…Gail. Her name is Gail."

"She must really be something to make a priest quit," someone else added.

He was blushing furiously, but he couldn't help but smile. Gail truly was something special.

By the time John finally ran into Colonel Potter, word had gotten around the hospital that Mulcahy was running off with a girl and had obvious reached Potter's ears.

"What's this I hear that you're bugging out and eloping with some youngster?" Potter said, without even a hello.

Mulcahy had the decency to look abashed. "I'm sorry you didn't quite hear it from me first, Colonel."

Potter's eyes bugged out of his head. "It's true! Jumping' jompers—"

"It's mostly true," Mulcahy interrupted. "I'm sure you remember Lt. Gail Harris?"

Potter's face showed dawning recognizing.

"She and I recently…reconnected. She wrote to me several months back and we corresponded regularly for some time. She's the reason my sister Kathy came here to see me. She was concerned."

"Is that why you asked for some R&R?" Potter wondered.

Mulcahy fought against the urge to clarify that a sabbatical was anything but R&R, and instead nodded. "I needed some time alone, to figure out where my heart truly was. I found that it was with Gail."

"Padre, you know I don't begrudge any man a little happiness in life, but are you sure about this, son?"

It was odd for Mulcahy to be called 'son' in the same sentence where he'd just been called 'Padre.' He almost laughed, but managed to swallow the sound and settle for just a smile. "I've never been more sure about anything…well, except my decision to join the priesthood. Gail and I have talked ad nauseum about this, Colonel. I've even managed to line up a new profession starting in August. Teaching at Loyola in Chicago where Gail is going to medical school."

The Colonel looked almost distraught as he stared at Mulcahy. "Will you stay here until then?"

Mulcahy shook his head. "I would be committing a cardinal sin if I continued my work here, Colonel. I've already given my resignation to God, it would be wrong of me to masquerade as a priest in the interim. I intend to give a formal resignation to the church by the end of the week."

"Boy, this is the last thing I expected to hear when you got back," Potter said shaking his head with watery eyes. "We're really going to miss you, Padre."

"Please," Mulcahy said, suddenly feeling choked up. "Call me John."

* * *

><p>Mulcahy had sent his laundry out to be cleaned before he'd gone down to the cafeteria for some dinner. On the way down, he ran into Klinger once more, who looked at him with big, sad eyes. Mulcahy felt like he'd kicked a puppy.<p>

"Colonel Potter told me the news," Klinger said. "Though I heard it about 10 times before that."

"I'm sorry for not telling you myself, Klinger."

"It's okay. I just can't believe you're leaving, but what a way to go." Klinger grinned knowingly at Mulcahy, who blushed to the tips of his ears. "You will invite me to the wedding won't you?"

"Oh," Mulcahy blushed deeper. "Yes, of course. Assuming we get married some day."

"I give it 3 months, tops." Klinger said, as if making a bet, winking at John.

"Well, I should think we should spend a little more time with each other before we rush into matrimony, though she and I both feel that marriage is in the cards."

"Take it from me, Father, 3 days, 3 months, or 3 years…when it feels right, it feels right."

"Thank you, Max," John said, uncertainly.

To his surprise, the former corporal pulled him into a tight hug. Mulcahy patted his back awkwardly.

"I'm not leaving today, Klinger."

Klinger pulled back. "I know, I'm just getting it all out of my system before you do go."

* * *

><p>It took two days for John to gain approval to meet with the leaders of the Church in his community. He'd spent much of the morning debating on whether or not he should wear his black cassock and roman collar, or simply a pair of trousers, button down shirt and tie. Was it sacrilegious to resign from the priesthood while wearing the vestments of said office? He didn't want to chance it.<p>

The hearing, as Mulcahy was calling it, was held in the meeting hall of one of the nearby churches. If he had thought he was nervous the day he took his vows of priesthood, he was kidding himself! Mulcahy had avoided eating breakfast for fear that it might all come back up in the middle of the meeting. He knew he wasn't the first priest in this situation, but he still couldn't help but wonder what his peers would think of him. How they might silently pass judgment on him. It was not for a priest to judge, but how could they not?

It only angered him that he felt he needed to justify himself and his actions to these men. Mulcahy knew he wasn't accountable to any of them, he was only accountable to himself and to the Lord God Almighty. Sitting down at one of the tables, John quietly observed the other men who filed into the room.

"Father Francis Mulcahy," one man said as he stood. John recognized him as the Bishop who oversaw this particular diocese. John rose and crossed the room to kneel before the Bishop, kissing the Episcopal ring on his finger in a sign of deep respect and tradition. The Bishop spoke a Latin prayer over Mulcahy, drawing a cross in the air above John's head as a blessing. "You have come to renounce the Holy Orders that our Father, the Lord God has bestowed upon you, is this so?"

John, still kneeling, bowed his head. "Yes, Your Excellency."

"Why?"

John looked up, surprised by the bluntness of the question. "I feel that I have been called away to do His bidding in other ways."

"What better way to do His bidding than by serving His House, leading His children to the light?"

"Your Excellency, I cannot know God's perfect design for my life. I truly believed that I would remain in the clergy until the end of my time on Earth, but I have recently gone on sabbatical to understand where I felt God was leading me, and I have come to understand that my calling is no longer in the priesthood."

"You understand that to renounce your Holy Orders means that you will forever give up all rights and titles afforded to you? There is no turning back, no changing your mind."

"I understand." John said softly, tears blurring his eyes. He still knew this was the right path, but breaking his oath to serve God still filled him with deep guilt.

"I will ask you twice more, Father; should your answer remain, then you will be absolved of your office."

John closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose.

"Do you, Francis Mulcahy, renounce your calling in His Holy Service of your own free will, with your heart free sin and your soul free of evil?"

"I do." John said as he exhaled.

"And do you, Francis Mulcahy, renounce the sacred oath of your office in which you vowed to serve Him for eternity?"

John felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. They certainly didn't sugarcoat it, did they? He almost hesitated here, knowing this was it. After this moment, he would never be allowed to call himself Father again. A sense of peace came over him, then, reminding him that God was fully in support of this decision, and possibly even orchestrated it. John looked up at the Bishop. "I do."

"Then by the power vested in me, I absolve you of your duties and rescind the Holy Orders or priesthood. May God be with you, Francis. You may go."

John kissed the ring once again. "Thank you, Your Excellency. God bless you."

The Bishop again crossed his hand in the air before John. "In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen."

"Amen." A chorus rang up around them from the other priests gathered to witness.

"Amen." John echoed quietly before numbly making his exit.

* * *

><p>Rather than return directly to the VA, John decided to walk to the train station to look into getting a ticket back to Chicago. He'd spent the last few days trying to decide what to do and where to go once he'd given his resignation, and the ultimate answer had been to return to Chicago.<p>

He and Gail had only talked once over the last week, as she had started her rotations and had little time for much else. John hadn't told her of his plan to return to Chicago, but he knew that finding a place to live would be much easier if he was there looking himself rather than burdening her to look in her spare time.

John bought a ticket for the following day, then strolled back to the VA. He was sure that the Colonel would let him stay in the Chaplain's quarters at least one more night. He used what was left of the afternoon to make his final hospital rounds, saying goodbye to the soldiers he'd come to know and care for during his Chaplaincy there, and also to the staff on duty.

He was putting off his goodbyes to Potter and Klinger until the very last moment, knowing he would miss his friends dearly. When he had finished, he returned to his room and sat at the desk, pulling out a crisp sheet of paper and a pen.

_Dear Sis,_

_So much has transpired since our last conversation that it seems unfair to share it all with you by letter. I fear this may end up to be a novel by the time I have brought you up to speed on the current events._

_I took your advice and went to Montana on sabbatical. It was quite beautiful there, so very different from any place I've ever been and a much needed change of pace so that I had time to be alone with myself and with God. I spent several weeks there, examining the various aspects of my life that I have overlooked and ignored, and questioning myself on where my heart truly was. I devoted my life to His service, but after a very deep, hard look at myself, I realized that my path was leading me away from the priesthood. I wonder now if perhaps this path began some time ago. Every road I've taken…or not taken, in some instances…has circled me back to Gail. _

_It's quite amazing how God spoke to me on my journey. I wish you could have been there to appreciate it as much as I still do. Ultimately, I felt that God was leading me in a different direction; to a life that included Gail. I decided to travel to Chicago in order to see Gail and speak with her about my journey, and to find out what exactly she expected and wanted as far as a relationship with me. Needless to say, she and I are on the same page in nearly every respect. _

_Seeing her again, spending time with her, and really getting to know her absolutely warmed my heart and made me feel more confident in my decision. I've never felt closer to anyone than I do to Gail…except, maybe, you. I'm greatly looking forward to the time she and I will spend together, the life we will one day share. There are no doubts in my mind that I will marry her._

_Whilst I was in Chicago, I spoke with Father Hussey, current president of the Chicago sister school of Loyola. As it turned out, they had recently expanded the pastoral studies department and were in need of new faculty. In August, I will begin teaching several religious studies classes as well as an introduction to Latin. I'm quite looking forward to it, though I fear public speaking has never really been my forte. Even performing Mass was nerve-wracking for me. I do hope my nerves will be up to this new task._

_With my plans in motion and my mind made up, there were only two things left to do: inform Colonel Potter that he would soon have a vacancy for a Chaplain, and resign from the Church._

_Neither was easy for me, and while I am confident that this decision is right for me, I still can't help but feel remorse for the vows I have broken to God. Am I doing this for purely selfish reasons? I don't feel as though I am, but I feel quite shaken nonetheless. Resigning from the Church was a harrowing experience, to say the least. To be surrounded by other clergymen, kneeling before the Bishop, surrendering my duties to him…I'm thankful that I shall only have to do that once in my lifetime. I am certain that I will continue to serve Him in some capacity. I will join a new congregation in Chicago and serve in whatever capacity I can, but my time as an ordained priest ended today._

_The immediate future is still a bit uncertain as of now. I plan to return to Chicago tomorrow and will be staying at the YMCA until I am able to establish a residence. I have no address for you to write me at, but once I am established somewhere, I shall let you know. In the interim, you can write to me at Gail's address. I'm sure she would not mind receiving my letters for me._

_So much has happened in the recent months, and so much is yet to come, but I have never been happier than I am now. I hope that you will be happy for me, too._

_Glory be,_

_Francis_

John sealed the letter and set it aside. He sighed quietly, looking around his windowless room. He would not miss this room. He would miss the people, the service he provided, and the camaraderie with Potter and Klinger, but life was a wheel in constant motion and it was now moving him onto a new path.

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Gail and Sherri had just finished a 12 hour shift at the hospital and were taking the bus home rather than walk. Three weeks had passed since she'd last spoken to John when he'd arrived home in River Bend, and she was growing anxious about how things were progressing. She hadn't had time to help him look for an apartment like she'd anticipated, but she hoped that on Sunday she might get time to at least browse the paper.

"My feet are killing me," Sherri said, slipping off her shoe and rubbing her large foot. "Remind me why I agreed to a 12 hour shift?"

"The money." Gail said with a yawn. "And because we're masochists."

"Ain't that the truth," Sherri said, slipping her shoe back on as they approached their stop.

Gail was looking forward to a warm shower and a quick bite to eat before she crawled into bed, but as she followed Sherri up the stairs to their apartment, she heard Sherri make a curious noise.

"Hmm..what's this?" She said as she plucked something taped on the front door. Gail looked over her shoulder. There was an address followed by two words: Dago Red.

Gail gasped and nearly tore the paper out of Sherri's hand staring at it with her mouth hanging open.

"What the hell is Dago Red?"

"It's John. Dago is one of the nicknames he got in Korea." Gail looked on the back of the paper, searching for any other information. "What do you suppose this is?"

"An address, obviously." Sherri deadpanned.

Gail glared. "Come on. Let's go."

"What? Now? But we've only just made it home! It's almost midnight! I'm tired!" Sherri whined as Gail started back down the stairs.

"Then stay, but I'm going." Gail could hear Sherri sighing behind her before the other woman clamber back down the steps.

"This better be good." Sherri grumbled.

Though Gail wasn't totally familiar with all the streets in Chicago, she knew the street listed on the paper. It was only about 3 blocks down. They hurried to the address, Sherri moaning the whole time about her sore feet, until they came to the apartment building. Gail looked at the paper again to be sure.

"Apartment 213."

They headed up to the apartment and Gail took a nervous breath as they stood outside the door. Sherri sighed in annoyance and banged on the door.

"Sherri! Good grief!" Gail reprimanded.

Sherri shrugged and a moment later they could hear the lock click on the other side before the door opened to reveal John standing in a t-shirt and shorts. He smiled widely.

"I was hoping you got my note."

Gail couldn't verbally respond. She couldn't believe her eyes. Was this a dream? Was John actually here? In an apartment, no less? She flung herself into his arms, hugging him tightly and nearly knocking him off balance. He laughed softly, hugging her back, his lips lightly pressing to her temple.

"Come in, please," he told them, gently pulling back from her embrace and leading her inside.

Gail looked around at the barren apartment. There was very literally nothing in it. "How long have you been here?"

"I moved in this afternoon," He told her, before guiltily adding, "I've actually been in Chicago for a couple of weeks, but I wanted to surprise you."

"A couple of weeks! John! I've been worrying myself day and night about where you've been and how you were." She crossed her arms over her chest, huffing. "A couple of weeks."

He couldn't help but look amused though he tried to appear remorseful as he took her hands in his. "I truly am sorry for not saying anything sooner, but I'm here now. And for good this time."

She smiled and sighed, shaking her head softly in disbelief. "You're incredible, you know that."

He blushed softly. "Come on, I'll give you the grand tour."

Gail giggled slightly, squeezing his hand as he gestured to the empty room they were standing in.

"This is the living room. Obviously I haven't had time to get furniture yet, but I expect it will be quite welcoming when I do." He turned her around, leading her into the connecting kitchen, separated by a small counter bar area.

"Do you know how to cook?" Gail asked as she peeked into the stove and opened the cabinets to inspect everything.

"Well…I think I'll be able to manage, but perhaps I ought to get a cookbook."

She smiled in amusement and he led her out of the kitchen and down the hall to the one bathroom, then lastly the one bedroom. It wasn't a large apartment, but it was plenty big for him. "It's wonderful, John. Empty, but wonderful."

He laughed. "Yes, I admit I haven't had time to start shopping for furnishings. I was hoping you might help me with that. Your decorating sense is probably far superior to mine."

"I have an evening shift tomorrow, but if you'd like we can go in the morning."

"That would be perfect." He leaned in to kiss her.

Sherri groaned softly. "Get a room."

Gail began to regret bringing Sherri along. She sighed and cast an annoyed look at her friend before turning back to John. "Well, what are you going to do in the meantime? You're not sleeping here are you?"

"Sure, why not? It'll be fun, like camping."

Gail looked skeptical. "I don't mind you coming and staying the night with me. At least until you've got a bed to sleep in. And don't say you'd be imposing, because you wouldn't be."

He didn't have a good enough argument to decline and she smiled almost triumphantly.

"Get your things, you're staying with me."

As John got his suitcase, Gail turned off the lights and they waited outside as John locked the door. Then, the three of them headed the three blocks back to Gail's apartment.

"So, you've been here two weeks?" Sherri asked him. "Where've you been staying?"

"Oh, the YMCA," he told her before linking his hand with Gail's. "I didn't think it was fair for you to spend your free time trying to find me a place, so I came up here after I took care of my business."

"Well, I'm glad you did. I haven't had time to look!" Gail told him sounding completely exhausted. "I just wish you'd told me you were here. You could have stayed with me."

"As much as I love staying with you," he murmured, hesitantly. "We shouldn't get in the habit of always spending the night together."

She could hear the Catholic dogma speaking through his words. Even though they didn't do anything improper, or totally improper, the Catholic Church would consider them to be living in sin.

"Come on, Father," Sherri grinned. "There's nothing wrong with having a little fun."

"It's just John, now," he said softly. "I'm not a priest anymore."

"So you really did it? You left the priesthood for Gail?"

"Well, for Gail as much as for myself." He nodded. "It wasn't the right place for me anymore."

Gail squeezed his hand lovingly.

When they arrived at the apartment, Gail and Sherri both shed their shoes with sighs of relief. Sherri was practically down the hall before they could even close the front door.

"I call first shower." The shower door all but slammed behind her.

"Sometimes she really gets on my nerves," Gail said with a shake of her head. "I'm sorry she's so crass."

"It's alright," he smiled, setting his suitcase by the door. "Whenever I stay here, I impose on her as much as I impose on you."

"Well, you don't impose on me Francis John Patrick Mulcahy," she replied, sliding her hands around his middle and looking up at him. "I love having you here. I love being with you."

"I love you," he told her, smiling gently before he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her with abandon, his tongue easily sliding into her mouth and eliciting a soft moan.

"Mm!" She pulled back from the kiss and pulled out of his arms, moving to the table and digging through a small pile of mail. "I almost forgot. Your sister sent you a letter to my address. I thought it was odd she would send it to my address, but I didn't open it to see what it said."

"Oh! Thank you." He said, taking the letter when she presented it to him. "I hope you don't mind. When I left River Bend, I gave Kathy your address so she could reach me until I had my own apartment. When did this arrive?"

"Two days ago? Maybe three."

"Thank you for holding onto it."

"Of course. What was I going to do? Throw it out?" She laughed softly, stepping on her tiptoes to kiss his lips before moving past him into the kitchen. "Are you hungry at all?"

"No, thank you. I ate earlier. I'm guessing you and Sherri must have just gotten home from work before you arrived at my apartment?"

"Yeah. 12 hours today. It nearly killed us both."

"12 hours!" John breathed in shock.

"12 hours is nothing compared to some of the marathons we had in OR at the 4077," she reminded him. "But it's been a long time since I've done that, so it was a little grueling."

"Well, please don't let me get in the way if you need to go to sleep."

"I need to eat," she said with a laugh. "I'll worry about sleep after I've done that and showered."

He sat down at the table and opened his letter as Gail fussed around the kitchen.

_My Dear Brother,_

Though I am saddened to hear the Church has lost a magnificent priest, I am infinitely happy for the journey you are about to embark on. I know this is right for you, Francis; I have felt it since I received Gail's letter inquiring about your whereabouts. There's something quite special about her, Francis. I just know it.

The Lord has certainly opened many doors for you, which just goes to show he had planned this all along. I know you will be an excellent teacher; you loved your studies so much and have always been so passionate about sharing your knowledge with others. Your students will greatly benefit from you.

Chicago is still so far from Philadelphia, can you not convince Gail to move back home with you? I know, your silly old sister is selfish, but I do miss you so. The week I spent with you in River Bend was certainly not long enough. I'm sure Mother and Father would like to meet Gail, too.

Please write soon, dear brother. I'm ever so anxious to hear about everything you've been doing. Best of luck in finding a home. My love to Gail.

Much love,  
>Kathy<p>

John smiled, looking up as Gail sat down across from him with a sandwich and a glass of milk. "Kathy sends you her love."

Gail smiled. "What else did she have to say?"

"Just that she thinks I should convince you to move to Philadelphia so we can be near her."

"She must miss seeing you."

"Yes, she said as much. And I do miss her, but I never really liked Philadelphia much. I still consider it home, but I don't much care to go back there on a permanent basis." He tucked the letter back in the envelope. "Tell me how you've been. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too. I really haven't had much time for anything the last few weeks. I've been toying with reducing my hours at the hospital, and now that you're here, I think I actually will." She took a bite and chewed, swallowing before asking him. "What about you? Tell me what happened after you left."

"Well, I went home, of course, and told Colonel Potter my decision as soon as I could. Of course, by the time he had time to talk to me, word had already gotten around. I think the rumor by then was that you and I were planning to elope."

Gail laughed loudly. "That must have raised a few eyebrows."

"To say the least," he chortled. "A few days later I was able to meet with the Bishop in charge of that area. That was much harder than I anticipated it being."

"Why?" She wondered sincerely.

"Well, it was a little shaming to have to kneel there in front of my peers and have the Bishop revoke all my rights, duties and titles. I had no doubts about leaving, but I'm still very guilty and remorseful for breaking my promise to God."

"I wish I could have been there with you."

He shook his head. "It wasn't a pleasant experience."

"Which is why I should have been there." She reached out and covered his hand with hers. "Thank you for doing this, John. I know it's not all about me, but…well…thank you."

Sherri emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in her robe, hair twisted under a turban-like towel. She rummaged through the fridge for something to eat.

"Why don't you go get a shower, John." Gail offered. "I'll take one after you."

"You're sure?"

"Of course."

He nodded and gathered his things, taking them back to her bedroom before digging through it for his pajamas and toothbrush. It was odd how familiar he'd become with her apartment after spending only two nights there several weeks ago, but nothing had changed. If it was slightly untidy, he didn't make any comment.

By the time they were all ready for bed, there had been no mention of the sleeping arrangements. John had noticed Gail didn't make up the couch for him, and he found he didn't much care. He knew he shouldn't grow so complacent with sleeping in her bed, but it was nice to be next to her warm body and he was looking forward to the feel of her head against his chest once again.

Gail noticed that John didn't resist when she turned out the lights and led him to her bedroom. That was certainly a change from several weeks ago when she'd almost had to beg him to sleep in bed with her. Though she was certainly too tired to do anything, she couldn't help but wonder how he might handle being aroused now. She was sure the Catholic guilt would keep him from actual intercourse, but how far might he go? What could she get away with now that he wasn't a priest?

She slipped into bed and he quietly slipped in next to her, automatically stretching out his arm so that she could lie against him.

"See." She gloated as she snuggled against him. "This is better than 'camping out' on your floor."

He kissed her head. "Much better. Goodnight, Gail."

"Goodnight, Johnny."

* * *

><p>Daylight filtered in through the curtain blowing in the breeze, gently rousing John from a dreamless sleep. He was surprised to find that there was no press of head against his shoulder and as he looked beside him, he was even more surprised to find that Gail was not there. He reached for his glasses on the side table and peered at the clock. It was nearly 9:30.<p>

Sitting up, John stretched, then climbed out of bed, going to his suitcase to pull out a pair of trousers and a polo shirt. He quickly dressed, running a comb through his hair, then left the bedroom to find Gail.

He found her sitting at the table, a small radio next to her as she flipped through a catalog. John was pleased to hear some ragtime tunes emanating from the radio. She looked up at him as he entered her peripheral vision and smiled.

"You're up. I woke up around 8, but you were sleeping so soundly I didn't want to wake you."

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Oh, not at all. I've been looking through a Sears Roebuck catalog for your furniture. There've got a department store here, so maybe if you find something you like we can see if they've got it at the store."

"Oh! Wonderful. Anything eye-catching so far?"

"A few things. Have a look, I've circled the ones I think suit you. Are you hungry? I can make you some eggs."

"Oh, thank you, that would be lovely."

He sat, flipping back to the beginning of the catalog to look through it as she got up and began to prepare him breakfast. He mused how domestic they seemed to be becoming. His eyes drifted up from the page to look at her as she broke two eggs over a pan. She was wearing a pair of form-fitting pedal pushers and a sleeveless blouse. John took the opportunity to admire her curves. She was a petite woman with a small waist and rounded backside that gently sloped into strong, shapely legs.

"See anything you like?" She asked innocently, making him blush.

_Oh, yes,_his mind immediately supplied, but he managed instead to say, "Not just yet."

He returned his focus to the catalog, flipping the page. There were a couple of things circled that he took time to really study. Both looked to be quite modern with a neutral color. He felt either of those would suit him quite well. As he continued to flip through the pages, he found several more she'd picked out, and he began to wonder if she just knew his style or if, perhaps, they had common tastes.

Gail set a plate down beside him as well as a cup of coffee. She had made him two eggs over medium—the way he'd ordered them the last time they'd had breakfast together—and two pieces of toast. He smiled up at her, impressed she remembered how he liked his eggs without asking.

"Thank you."

She smiled back and sat in the chair next to him. "Don't thank me yet, you haven't tasted them."

"They aren't powdered, so I can only assume they'll be as wonderful as they look."

Gail laughed, remembering the powdered everything that they'd had in Korea. She pulled the magazine between them as he moved his plate over in front of him, bowing his head to say grace. When he began to cut into one of the eggs, she spoke. "So, what do you think?"

"Did you pick them out because you thought I'd like them, or because you like them?" He asked, curiously.

She blushed prettily. "Both. Do you like any of them?"

"All of them," he told her after swallowing a bite.

Gail beamed happily. "Do you have a favorite yet?"

He flicked back a couple of pages and pointed out an umber colored couch that appeared very simple, but had quite a bit of detailing. Every edge of the couch had piping to give the seams an elegant appearance and the back cushions had a single row of buttons evenly spaced from end to end. The base of the couch was supported on tapered mahogany legs. It was neither feminine nor masculine in appearance, which John liked; and it looked big enough to comfortably lie upon.

"I loved that one too. We can see if they have it in stock at the store today, if you want."

He nodded, smiling around a bite of toast. "What time do you have to be at work?"

"Around 4 o'clock." She sighed in discontent. "I have an 8 hour shift, so I won't get home until after midnight, and then I have to be back at 9 in the morning."

John looked horrified. "Even at the VA the doctors have regular hours. There are 'after hours' doctors and nurses on staff, but no one has varying shifts like that."

"Well, I'm not quite a doctor yet," she teased gently. "That's why they're called 'rotations' though. It's a rotating shift so you get experience in every part of the hospital—triage, OR, recovery, maternity—it's always something different. It's long hours, but I do enjoy it. It won't be as bad when I start my residency. Plus, I only do this much in the summer because the regular semesters I'm too busy with classes and labs."

When John swallowed his last bit of coffee, they finished getting ready, then headed down to the bus stop. The department store was in the downtown district of Chicago and took them almost 20 minutes to get there. John couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a department store of this size, and considered that he probably never had been. Gail seemed to know exactly where to go, and he followed her over to one of the sales associates.

One thing John hadn't really thought of when he'd made his decision to leave the priesthood, was the fact that he literally owned next to nothing. A few books, a few photos, and clothes were about the extent of his belongings. Gail seemed to realize this as well, because she was politely explaining to the saleswoman that John needed everything from linens to furniture. She noted that John had recently returned from serving overseas as a chaplain in the army, though John figured this was to make sure that he wasn't taken advantage of in the way of pricey items. He quietly thanked her for that.

After several daunting hours of picking out all of his furniture, bed linens, towels, kitchen cookery and utensils, flatware, and some other odds and ends, John was exhausted. Several times he'd made mention that he didn't need to get everything that day, but Gail had pointed out that these were naught but the bare essentials. They decided to have everything delivered to his apartment, and when the final total was rung up on the register, John was pleased that it was less than he expected.

They left the department store and walked a few blocks to a pizzeria where they both enjoyed a slice and soda. Since it would be another two days before everything would be delivered to his apartment, Gail had insisted John continue to stay with her.

"Once they get everything delivered, I can help you put everything away, if you want." She offered. He readily accepted. "Are you feeling overwhelmed yet?"

"Just a little," he admitted. She gave him a sympathetic smile and squeezed his hand.

"It'll be worth it."

"It already is." He murmured sincerely, holding her gaze to try and convey how very much he felt she was worth. Gail leaned in and kissed him softly.

They caught another bus back to her apartment and Gail had to rush to change and get ready for work. "Feel free to do whatever you want. The TV is there, the radio, I've got books in my room if you find something you want to read. If you get hungry, help yourself."

"I think I can manage," he told her with a laugh, watching her pin her hair up.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, dragging him down into a passionate kiss which lingered on for several blissful moments before she pulled back. "See you soon."

He gave a small wave as she hurried out the door. John looked around the empty apartment, debating on what to do with himself for the next 8 hours. Sherri had left at some point while they had been out shopping, so he wasn't sure when she might return. He decided to write Kathy.

Gathering a few sheets of paper and a pen, John sat at the kitchen table and flicked the radio on as background noise.

_Dear Kathy,_

I received your last letter sent to Gail's address, and have splendid news. I was finally able to find a place of my own! Gail and I spent much of today shopping for furnishings, which was quite an experience, indeed. She has been a true blessing in helping me figure out what all I will need to get established.

I have been enjoying Chicago so far. Most everyone I've encountered has been thoroughly pleasant. It excites me to be a part of this rather large community. Last Sunday I attended services at St. John Cantius. It is quite a breathtaking church, steeped in history, and Mass is even given completely in Latin at certain times. I had a chance to talk with Fr. Stanislaus Duda who became the church's pastorate about ten years back. He seemed quite glad that I might join the church and told me that ever since the end of WWII, the church's numbers have been declining. It seems that there has been an exodus of young couples marrying and moving outside of the city into the suburbs, and no one wishes to make the drive in for church services.

It seems that a completely civilian life is agreeing with me thus far. It's strange not having sermons to write, or confessions to hear, but to be quite honest…I find that I don't miss it. I always considered myself to be one giant, nameless ear. No one ever bothered to talk to me much unless they needed to get something off their chest. Even less did they ever listen when something was bothering me. It's nice to be seen as just a man rather than a man of God…not that there was anything wrong with that, but I think you understand my meaning.

I'm sure you've grown quite tired of hearing me speak of Gail, but she is the best thing in my life right now and I think of her constantly. I've never dated anyone seriously before, so I'm quite new on what I should or shouldn't be doing. I have no way of knowing what is normal for a relationship and what isn't, but Gail has been wonderful. She's never pushed me beyond my comfort zone and when we're together, it simply feels comfortable…like we've been friends forever. Several weeks ago I taught her how to play chess, just as you once taught me, and she beat the socks off of me! I think it would be a close match should you and her ever play a game.

_I suppose I should write to Mother and Dad about all the changes in my life, shouldn't I? I can just imagine the shock on their faces to hear that I've not only left the priesthood, but I've got myself a girl as well. I wonder if they'd truly believe it or if they'd think I was pulling a prank._

Perhaps before my classes start in the fall I will come visit you in Philly. If not then, surely for Christmas.

Dominus vobiscum,  
>Francis<p>

John sealed the letter after remembering to supply his new address to Kathy, then smoothed out another piece of paper with a sigh. This letter would be more difficult to write than the one to his sister. John had so little contact with his parents over the years, mainly because he always seemed at odds with his father, who never approved of John becoming a priest. Though the Mulcahy's were deeply religious, Rowan Mulcahy thought that a man should earn his keep through hard work and physical labor. He didn't consider the life of a priest to be an 'honest living' which always seemed like a conundrum to John, who considered it to be the most honest living one could make. Like he'd told Gail, though, the only thing John ever had in common with his father was boxing. He'd always suspected his father's disapproval of him compounded when he'd turned down fighting pro.

His relationship with his mother, May, on the other hand had always been special to him. Perhaps it was because he was the last born child, but she had always seemed closer to John than any of his brothers, and even Kathy sometimes. He loved her dearly, but remembered the times growing up when she and his father would drink to forget the pressures and stress of their daily lives. He remembered at times they were often more drunk than they were sober, which would lead to vicious spats. Though his father wasn't a particularly violent man, he did have an uncontrollable Irish temper and once he'd gotten through with yelling at May, he often found some reason to turn his ire on John. May had always been proud of John, but after living with Rowan for so many years, she'd grown very apathetic to most things, including her children.

Putting the pen to paper, John thought of what he would say for several moments before he began to write.

_Dear Mother and Dad,_

I hope you can forgive my lack of true correspondence over the past year, but I really have had nothing of consequence to write to you about until now…

John detailed everything he'd been through from the surgery to restore his hearing, to working at the VA, to reconnecting with Gail—and even about how they'd met to begin with—to his decision to leave the Church and take up a job teaching at Loyola. The letter was several pages in length by the time he'd run out of things to say, but he thought that it thoroughly covered everything. He didn't expect either of them to write back; Kathy would probably make mention of it in a future letter if they ever found it worth their time to acknowledge, but at least he'd done his duty as a son.

As he sealed that letter and addressed it to his mother, the front door open and Sherri spilled in through the front door, carrying a grocery sack. John moved to help her, taking the bag from her hand.

"Oh, thanks," she breathed, setting down her purse. "I really dislike grocery shopping…well, having to bring it home and put it away, at least."

He gave a soft laugh, carrying the bag to the kitchen and setting it on the counter. "Would you like some help?"

"Nah, that's alright. Where's Gail? Work? Poor gal never takes a break. The only day she didn't schedule herself is on Sundays."

John listened as Sherri buzzed right through asking questions without pausing for an answer. He didn't realize that Gail had only allowed herself one day off, though. "Why?" He finally asked when Sherri paused.

"I dunno. Everyone says she's just too eager, you know? Wants to know everything there is to know about being a doctor and afraid she's going to miss something if she's not there."

John recognized that trait from their time in Korea.

"Me," Sherri continued as she put away her groceries. "I think she's crazy."

John laughed, knowing Sherri was kidding.

"So, tell me, Johnny…you and Gaily been sleepin' in the same bed lately." She looked over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow at him, smirking impishly. "Has there been any hanky-panky going on?"

John blushed furiously. "No! I mean, it's all quite innocent. We simply shared a bed, but nothing inappropriate has happened."

Sherri chuckled. "Don't get all flustered, Johnny boy; it's alright with me if you two fool around. I'm sure Gail's told you about my many conquests that I've brought home."

"N-no, she hasn't." John said, feeling quite uncomfortable with where this conversation was going.

"Gail's a good girl, a real goodie two-shoe, ya know? I don't think I've ever seen her go on a date in all the time we've lived together. Me, I never had much use for being…virtuous, if you know what I mean. What about you, Johnny boy?"

"I think I fall in the same category as Gail," he answered simply.

"Do you even know anything about sex?" Sherri asked boldly.

"I really don't think this is an appropriate conversation to be having," John managed, his face bright red.

"Oh, come on. You can at least talk about it, can't you?" When he didn't answer she drew nearer to him. "Haven't you ever been curious, John? Haven't you ever wondered what it was like to touch a woman? See her unclothed? Feel yourself inside of her?"

John swallowed and took several steps back. "Sherri, please. You're making me very uncomfortable right now."

She couldn't help but laugh. "You gotta get out of that priest mindset if you ever plan to get in her pants, John."

"It isn't a 'priest's' mindset that I'm in. The Bible specifically dictates that intimacy should be between a man and woman who have been joined in marriage."

"I was raised Catholic, Johnny. I went to Catholic school. I know what the Bible says. Marriage is the 'cure' for being able to have sex without feeling guilty about it. That's all marriage is."

"How can you say that?" John asked, aghast by her cynicism. "Marriage is much more than that. It's one of the oldest sacraments."

"And sex is older than marriage," she countered. "I mean look at Adam and Eve. God told them to go forth and multiply. Where they married?"

"In God's eyes, yes. Eve was created from Adam and made specifically for him."

"So, what makes a person married, then? If they were married in 'God's eyes' what makes that any different than you and Gail? I mean, really…she's already planning your wedding. You know that right?"

This, again, was news to him. "She is?"

Sherri didn't answer, obviously waiting for a response to her earlier question.

"Well…" John called upon his vast knowledge of the Bible as he tried to think of a response. He realized he didn't really have one. True, the Bible said that man should leave his home, take a bride and consummate their union, but today's wedding ceremonies were more of a social occasion, a way to publically make those vows before witnesses as well as God. If, however, two people had already made such vows in their own minds before God, did that make them just as equally wed? John didn't have a straight answer. "Oh dear."

"Uh oh," Sherri smirked. "I stumped a priest."

He gave her a look of quiet reprimand, but she only chuckled in response.

"Well, you think about it, and if you have any questions, you know where to find me." She gave him a wink before sauntering out of the kitchen and to her bedroom. John sighed, trying to will the blush in his cheeks away and silently slipped down the hall to Gail's room, shutting the door for privacy as he took out his Bible and sat at her vanity to read. Sherri had, indeed, stumped him and he didn't intend to rest until he found an answer to her question. One backed by the Word of God.

He'd read from Genesis all the way to Isaiah when a soft knock came at the door and Gail quietly slipped in. She looked surprised to see him sitting there with his Bible.

"You're home," he said with a smile. "How was your day?"

"It wasn't bad," she said tiredly. "Have you been reading your Bible all day?"

"No," he said, closing the book and setting it aside. "I was trying to find the answer to a question."

Gail sat on his lap as he explained his earlier conversation with Sherri. By the time he was finished, she looked absolutely mortified. "I'm really, John. She really has no couth sometimes."

"It's alright. I think I'm more upset by the fact that I didn't have answer to her question than by the content of the conversation."

"Do you have one now?"

He shook his head. "The Bible doesn't speak much of the customs of marriage or truly define what makes a couple married. It's all a little…ambiguous. Weddings are a ceremony, a rite of passage, a public announcement of the union of a man and a woman. In most every culture, the ceremony is performed by a representative of God—a priest, a rabbi, a shaman, a holy man, so on and so forth. When I performed weddings, I was sanctioned by God to bless the union. The couples repeat their vows, binding themselves before the eyes of God. But, Sherri brought up the point of Adam and Eve. There was no ceremony for their matrimony. There was no one to pronounce them man and wife. There was only God. If two people stand alone in this world and vow to love, honor and obey one another with God as their only witness, does that make their marriage any less than a couple who are married in a church?"

Gail searched his eyes, finding the true anguish there at having no clear answer. She brushed his hair back from his forehead and placed her lips above his brow. "I think only God can answer that. The best we can do is try and make our best guess based on his words as told to us by the Apostles."

John sighed in agreement and the let the matter go for the time being.

* * *

><p>TBC<p>

_Dominus vobiscum_ – Latin for "Lord be with you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning**: This chapter contains graphic sexual content. Please be advised.

* * *

><p>When delivery day finally came, Gail again had to work, but she walked with John to his apartment that morning before she left for the hospital. They stood in the staircase saying their goodbyes.<p>

"Do you want me to come over after I get off work?" She asked as she hugged him tightly. "I can bring some take out or something."

"I'd love that." John replied. "What time can I expect you?"

"Six? Six thirty maybe?"

He pulled back and gave her a lasting kiss. "Perfect."

"Don't you dare do everything before I get back. I want to help!"

"I'll do my best," John laughed, giving her a wave as she jogged off towards the bus that was pulling up to the curb.

It was one o'clock by the time the delivery truck finally rolled up outside and two men began to unload the back and carry everything up to his apartment. John directed them where to put everything and told them he would worry about arranging it later, and after another hour, he found himself in a very full and disorganized apartment.

Though Gail had told him not to do everything, he knew he had to at least take care of the bedroom so that he'd have a comfortable place to sleep that night. He placed the headboard under the window, and hooked the rails on either side before attaching the footboard and laying down a few wooden slats. Making sure the bed was centered and square, John heaved the box springs onto the bed, and then pushed the mattress in place, falling on top of it all and mopping the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his shirt.

After a few moments of rest, he moved the side tables on either side of the bed and then pushed his new chest of drawers along the far wall, getting it into place before he lifted the adorning mirror to sit on top. He looked around, smiling and satisfied, then headed out to the living room to find an appropriate arrangement for the furniture there.

John had bought two chairs to accompany the couch as well as a coffee table and side tables for lamp lighting. With the entry to the kitchen and small dinette area along one wall, John thought it best to have the couch situated on the opposite wall, the longest wall in the room. He moved the couch in to place, and then the two side tables and coffee table, but had no idea how to place his two chairs. He moved those along the other wall to wait for Gail's opinion. Rather than getting a kitchen table, Gail had told John he should use the counter bar area for meals and had suggested just getting a couple of stools. Gail had said if her apartment had a bar like his, she wouldn't even bother with a table.

With the stools in place at the counter, the only thing that remained was unpacking the many sacks and boxes containing the rest of his purchases. John decided to leave that bit to Gail, knowing she would complain if didn't let her do something. Stretching out on the couch, John checked his watch. There was still time for a nap before Gail would get there. This would be a good trial run for testing out the sofa.

* * *

><p>When Gail's shift ended, she changed out of her uniform and into a comfortable pair of pedal pushers and a more casual blouse before she headed out for the evening. As promised, she stopped at one of her favorite diners along the way to John's apartment and picked up two burgers and fries and one large soda that she hoped he wouldn't mind sharing.<p>

It took several moments for John to finally answer the door after she knocked and she noticed his slightly mussed hair and tired eyes as he wordlessly took everything from her hands and leaned in to kiss her briefly.

"Were you sleeping?" She asked, amused.

"I was test driving the new couch," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "It's quite comfortable."

Gail laughed as she set her purse down, "I hope you don't mind sharing a drink, I didn't think I could manage carrying two drinks back here."

He laughed softly. "I don't mind at all; thank you for this."

"My treat." She smiled, then looked around. The living room floor was a maze of objects grouped together by their relative locations—kitchen, bathroom, bedroom. Gail couldn't help but laugh. "It looks like a refugee camp in here."

He grinned with mirth. "You told me not to finish before you got here, so I thought I'd at least give us a head start."

She shook her head, smiling at him. "Let's eat first, then we'll put all this stuff away."

They sat at the counter and Gail divided up the food between them.

"Once we clear the floor, I need your help in deciding where those two chairs are going. I'm not very good at arranging a room."

Gail swiveled on her stool to survey his work. "I like where you put the couch. I probably would have put it there too. I've got a few ideas about the chairs, but I may have you move them around a few times to see what looks best."

He gave an exaggerated sigh, trying not to smirk and she playfully hit his arm, making him laugh. She told him about her day at the hospital as they ate and asked him if he'd done anything besides make piles all day.

"I put the bedroom together, mostly." He admitted. "I haven't put the sheets on or anything, but I at least got the furniture together."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner to help."

"Nonsense," he murmured. "You're here now. That's more than I could ask for."

They finished eating and John showed Gail the bedroom, gaining her nod of approval once again at how he'd arranged everything. "We need to get you some curtains. The blinds are great, but they're not very decorative."

"Oh, well, you'll be the one to know about that."

She smiled and headed back to the living room, trying to decide where they should start. She picked up the pillows they'd bought for his bed and tossed them at John, gaining a laugh as he reflexively caught them before being hit in the face. "Let's get your bedroom finished first. We'll work our way through room by room."

He nodded in agreement and followed her back to the bedroom as she opened the sheets and began to shake them out. Together they made the bed, then John began to move his clothes from his suitcase to the dresser while Gail hung some of his shirts and trousers in the closet. He pulled out the framed photo of Kathy and set it on top of the dresser, then picked up his Bible, thumbing to the Book of John before pulling Gail's picture out from between the pages.

She blushed as she watched him set it against Kathy's frame before he put the Bible on his nightstand. "You kept my picture in your Bible?"

He shrugged modestly. "I didn't have a frame for it and I didn't want to lose it."

She didn't comment on how sexy she found him in that very moment. There was something so intimate, yet naughty, about being kept in his Bible knowing just how much his faith meant to him.

When they'd finished his bedroom, they moved onto the bathroom, then finally to the kitchen, and lastly the rest of the living room. As foretold, Gail had him drag the chairs across the floor several times as she debated on the best placement for them. He mopped sweat off his forehead, waiting for her to decide if she liked the current arrangement.

"Hmm…move that one back over here again for a minute," she said, simply toying with him now.

Without protest, John did what she asked and Gail bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

"No, I don't like that, move it back over there."

John finally looked up at her. "That's the third time I've—" He realized she was laughing at him and it dawned on him that he'd been had. "Oh! You!" He grabbed her around the middle and Gail squealed in laughter as his fingers dug into her sides. She fought to get away but John was much stronger, holding her with one arm with the other hand tickled relentlessly.

"No!" She wheezed, squirming in his grasp, tears running down her cheeks as she laughed breathlessly.

John's grin was almost wicked as he held tight, fingers digging into her most tickling spot under her ribs. Gail realized she wasn't going to pull free, so instead she collapsed downwards, trying to slip out of his arms, but instead of escaping, she just dragged him to the ground with her, his fingers never leaving her sides.

"John! Stop!" She half cried and half laughed. "Please!"

Laughing, John finally eased up, but his hand still lingered at her waist as he half knelt and half laid across her. Her hand found his bicep as she gasp for breath, her other hand wiping away her tears.

"Ugh!" She laughed. John laughed along with her as he looked down her, his heart filling with love and body filling with desire as he took in her disheveled form. Her shirt had ridden up, exposing her belly, and was pulled tight across her chest, the buttons straining to hold the shirt together and gapping open at her bosom to reveal a pale bra peeking through. John's heart sped up and the laughter quickly died in his throat.

Gail sensed the sudden change and looked at his face, seeing that his eyes were traveling down her body, his hand either consciously or unconsciously pushing her shirt a little higher. She expected him to react as he did a few weeks ago when his hand had traveled too high up her shirt, but this time she was surprised when his eyes met hers with determination and desire. He bent his head and claimed her lips.

She sucked in her breath as his fingers slipped even further up her shirt, hovering near the bottom of her sternum and making warm circles as his tongue found the inside of her mouth, making the same, slow, deliberate circles. She moaned softly, aching for his hand to move higher, and then…it did.

For a second Gail thought she'd imagined it, but there was no mistaking the tentative caress of his palm over her breast through the fabric of her bra. She arched her back up, pressing herself against his hand, wishing for once she hadn't worn a bra, and becoming aware of the ache between her legs. She wanted to reach out and touch him, reciprocate in some way, but she was afraid the spell would be broken and she was in no hurry to bring an end to this newfound bliss.

He pressed his body a little more firmly against her side as he gained more confidence in the movement and placement of his hand. He gently squeezed one breast before sliding his hand to the other side to give it equal attention. Gail realized at that point she was clinging to his neck and making soft mewling noises. She could feel his erection against her hip and quickly she made a decision…

John moaned against her mouth as Gail's hand snaked between their bodies and lightly grabbed him through his shorts, stealing his breath away as all the blood in his body rushed south of the border, leaving him a little light headed. Her delicate fingers were rubbing, massaging, caressing him. It was the first time he'd ever been touched in such a way and it felt so licentiously good.

He pressed against her hand, feeling the resistance as she firmly pressed back. John surprised himself, as well as Gail, when he rolled over on top of her, settling between her legs. The fit of their bodies, even despite their both being fully clothed, was nearly enough to convince John to abandon all caution and just take her. He pulled her leg up against his thigh and gently thrust against her. They moaned into each other's mouths, and when John thrust again, Gail's hips rolled to meet the movement.

He broke away from the kiss, practically growling in frustrated ecstasy as he crushed their lower halves together. "Damn…" he swore softly, his lips brushing against her shoulder. "This feels too good to stop."

Gail had never heard John swear before, and she would have laughed if she wasn't just as aroused as he was. She dug her nails into his back and wrapped her legs around him. "Then don't," she purred.

She accentuated her point by rolling her hips up against his. John's body responded automatically as he thrust against her. He groaned, obviously torn between wanting to go on and knowing they shouldn't. "We can't…we shouldn't."

"I want you," she breathed against his ear, continuing to move against him.

"Gail," he moaned softly, his body still meeting her thrust for thrust.

Gail's hands slipped under the back of his t-shirt, her hands skimming across his sculpted lower back, her fingers sliding under the waistband of his shorts and boxers to brush against the top of his ass. John could feel himself sweating as a result of the effort to restrain himself, but his control was slipping with each gentle rock of her body beneath his.

"Take me, John," she told him breathlessly. "Make me yours."

John licked his lips, the remnants of his conversation with Sherri bubbling up in his mind followed by several key verses that he had been looking for after that strange conversation, finally revealing his answer.

He nuzzled her ear with his nose as he softly murmured, "Marry me."

"Of course I will," she breathed, her hand slipped further the back of his pants to caress the round globe of his ass.

"No…I mean marry me. Now," he said with a little more clarity, his voice trembling slightly.

She opened her eyes, hands growing still as she looked up at him, realization of his request dawning on her. "What? Here? John…are you sure?"

He nodded, though somewhat hesitantly. "Will you marry me, right here…right now…before the eyes of God?"

The gravity of it settled over Gail, leaving her breathless and a little unsteady. This wasn't how she imagined her wedding day. They had talked theoretically about Adam and Eve and what truly made a couple married in God's eyes, but would their vows—taken in haste on his living room floor—hold up in His eyes? Gail slid her hands back out of his shorts and gently pushed him back until they were both sitting up again.

"Are you sure God would be okay with this? I know what we talked about the other day, but…I don't want you to rush into anything because of…you know…"

He watched her pretty face blush and placed his hands on her rosy cheeks. "Genesis, Chapter 2 says, 'And the LORD God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him. And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man. Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh. And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.'"

Gail swallowed, trying to wrap her mind around what he was saying, and the fact that he seemed clearly at ease with this decision.

John dropped his hands to clasp hers, "Marriage ceremonies in Biblical times were a social affair, much the way they are today. It was a celebration of their joining. There were no true vows of marriage, it was simply a union of two souls who agreed to love, honor and obey, sealed by the act of becoming one physically."

Gail felt like her head was reeling. He was serious! She felt her heart hammering in her chest as he continued.

"There is no doubt in my mind that I want to marry you, Gail; but if there are any doubts in your mind then perhaps—"

"Yes." She managed, barely more than a whisper, cutting off whatever else he was about to say.

He looked at her, not breathing, noting the glisten of tears in her eyes.

"Of course…" She choked on her own emotions. "Of course I'll marry you, John."

John squeezed her hands tightly, his smile so wide he thought his face might split.

"Will you…" she swallowed, obviously trying to control her emotions. "Will you say the vows anyways? I know it's not necessary, but…I just want to hear you say them."

His face softened at her request and he leaned forward to gently kiss her. "Of course I will. I can try and make it somewhat like an official ceremony that I performed as priest, if you'd like."

She nodded, smiling at him. "I would like that very much."

They held each other's eyes for a long moment, then John bowed his head and she followed suit, unable to close her eyes as she listened to his prayer.

"Dear God, we come before you now and ask that you bless this love, enriching and strengthening us in this holy sacrament so that we may assume the duties of husband and wife in mutual and lasting fidelity. In the Old Testament, it is written, 'Blessed the husband of a good wife, twice-lengthened are his days; A worthy wife brings joy to her husband, peaceful and full is his life. A good wife is a generous gift bestowed upon him who fears the LORD; Be he rich or poor, his heart is content, and a smile is ever on his face.' As Adam with Eve, Abraham with Sarah, Isaac with Rebekah, I shall be Gail's husband and she shall be my wife for all of our days."

He looked up at Gail. "Do you want to repeat the vows after me?"

She nodded, amazed by how flawlessly he could quote the Bible. She wondered how many times he'd read the Good Book over the years.

"I, Francis John Patrick Mulcahy, take you, Abigail Louise Harris, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life." He paused, licking his lips. "Now you… 'I, say your name.'"

"I, Abigail Louise Harris," she repeated.

"'Take you, my name.'"

"Take you, Francis John Patrick Mulcahy,"

"'To by my husband.'"

"To be my husband."

"'I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad,'" he went on.

"I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad,"

"'In sickness and in health.'"

"In sickness and in health," she parroted, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"'I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.'" He finished softly.

"I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

He smiled tenderly at her, then closed his eyes again, "Father, by your power you have made everything out of nothing. In the beginning you created the universe and made mankind in your own likeness. You gave man the constant help of woman so that man and woman should no longer be two, but one flesh, and you teach us that what you have united may never be divided. Father, you have made the union of man and wife so holy a mystery that it symbolizes the marriage of Christ and his Church. By your plan man and woman are united,  
>and married life has been established as the one blessing that was not forfeited by original sin<br>or washed away in the flood. Look with love upon this woman, your daughter, now joined in marriage. We ask for your blessing. Give her the grace of love and peace. May she always follow the example of the holy women whose praises are sung in the scriptures. May I, her husband, put my trust in her and recognize that she is my equal and the heir with me to the life of grace. May I always honor her and love her as Christ loves his bride, the Church. Father, keep us always true to your commandments. Keep us faithful in marriage and let us be living examples of Christian life. Give us the strength which comes from the gospel so that we may be witnesses of Christ to others. Bless us with children and help us to be good parents. May we live to see their children's children. And, after a happy old age, grant us fullness of life with the saints in the kingdom of heaven. We ask this through Christ our Lord."

Gail's face split into a wide smile. "That's quite the prayer."

He grinned ruefully at her. "Well, I wanted to make sure I covered all the bases. It's a fairly standard prayer for a wedding, though."

Her heart was still hammering in her chest, "So was that it?"

"Oh!" John exclaimed, almost forgetting the most important part. "Ego conjúngo nobis in matrimónium. In nominee Patris, et Fílii, et Spíritus Sancti. Amen."

Gail laughed softly as he drew a cross in the air between them before he leaned forward and pressed his lips solidly to hers. Gail threw her arms around his neck. Whether or not what she and John had just done was legal, they had just married themselves before God. And now that she was his wife—in whatever capacity that meant—she intended to make it binding in the Biblical sense. Judging by the way his hands were pulling her to him, he did too.

Gail moved so that she was straddling his legs as they sat on the floor. His fingers found the lowest button on her blouse and worked it open as their tongues dueled for dominance. He worked the next button open, then the next and the next, continuing up without hesitation until her shirt fell open. Now he did hesitate, slowly pulling back and looking up into her eyes as if afraid to look lower. Gail shrugged the shirt off her shoulders, tossing it to the side, then reached back to unhook her bra. She watched him swallow as his gaze shifted down and Gail bit her lip gently as she teasingly lowered one strap off her shoulder very slowly, and then the other. John swallowed again, and wrapped his hands around her lower back, drawing her against him as his lips found her collarbone. Gail managed to slide her bra off the rest of the way, dropping it to the side as well. John's lips sank lower and his hands traveled up her sides until he skimmed the underside of her breasts.

Gail gasped, dropping her head back to expose herself fully to him. She could feel the metal rim of his glasses against her headed skin and shivered. Cupping his cheeks, she lifted his head so that she could remove the eyewear, carefully folding the arms and laying them out of harm's way.

John took the opportunity to look at Gail's naked torso. He had seen pictures of naked women before—Heaven knew most of the men stationed in Korea had a nude picture posted somewhere near their bunks—but to see her bared before him, a living, breathing woman…she was perfect in every way. He covered one breast with his hand, feeling the gentle heft of it, the softness, the warmth, the way the nipple hardened against his palm. He gave a tentative squeeze and Gale moaned softly, closing her eyes. John licked his lips as his hand cupped the underside of her breast and he brought his mouth down upon it. Gail arched her back to give him better access, her fingers twining in the hairs at the base of his skull, urging him on.

Tentatively, John swirled his tongue across her nipple, eliciting another gasp from the woman in his lap. He suckled, kissed, licked across her breasts, eager to feel every part of it against his mouth. When his teeth gently raked across her nipple, Gail whimpered.

"Am I hurting you?" He murmured, looking up into her flushed face.

"Not at all…" she said, voice slightly husky. "It feels…so good."

He smiled, pleased. She opened her eyes, and looked down at him, still fully clothed.

"I want to touch you, John."

He felt dizzy with anticipation but sat back a little so that Gail could pull his t-shirt off over his head. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, pressing their bare chests together. They sighed in unison, lips crashing together, tongues again locked in a passionate duel.

Gail's hands were roaming every part of him she could get to—shoulders, arms, back. In Korea she'd seen him in those awful army-issue olive drab shorts and undershirt whenever he would mess around with his punching bag, but feeling the definition of those muscles hidden beneath the flesh was different than seeing them from a distance. He was a lean man, but strong. She could feel the way the muscles flexed as his arms moved his hands about her body. It made her dizzy with desire.

Taking the initiative, Gail pressed against John's broad shoulders until he lowered his back to the floor. She bit her lip, trying to contain her grin, as her hands trailed down across his chest. There was a fine dusting of blonde hair across his pecks that tapered off at his sternum, then a slightly darker patch that picked up under his navel, disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts. She traced the trail of hair with her finger, her eyes traveling over his body in a slow sweep. As he lay half propped up on his elbows, she could see the tent in his pants were his erection was straining up against the fabric.

Her eyes flicked up to his playfully as her grin widened and her hands fell to the fastenings of his pants. John lifted his hips with a slight laugh as she tugged his pants down, leaving him only in his boxer shorts. His heart was hammering against his chest as he watched her pull up on her knees and shimmy out of her own pants, revealing her low-cut, white cotton panties. John felt that he was practically drooling on himself as his eyes raked over her body. She threw one leg over him, straddling his hips, and settling herself directly over his erection.

"Oh…dear…" He groaned, his hands gripping her hips as he fell flat on his back in a half faint.

Gail laughed softly, leaning down and pressing her chest to his as she kissed from his shoulder to his ear, softly murmuring. "I want to taste you."

"Feels like you already are," he teased gently, hands roaming across her backside, finger tracing the line of elastic at the hip and down across the round globe of her ass as far as it would reach.

"No," she giggled, her hand snaking between their bodies and gently squeezing him through his boxers. "I mean I want to taste you."

He felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs and he couldn't reply, or even breathe at the thought of _her_ doing _that_ to _him_.

"Is that okay?" She asked, nuzzling his ear.

He could only nod dumbly, feeling himself more aroused by the anticipation of such an intimate act than he had been that whole night. Gail leaned in and kissed his lips before planting a line of kisses down his chest and stomach, slowly working her way down. Her tongue dipped into his navel, making him shiver and she lightly nipped his hipbone as she slowly pulled his boxers down. He gasped softly as his erection caught on the waistband, being pulled backward with his undershorts until it slipped free, bobbing forward and slapping against his abdomen, making his entire body jerk in response.

Gail looked up at him apologetically. "I'm sorry!"

"N-no…" he gulped, still quivering. "That…that felt good."

She arched an eyebrow at him, intrigued, but then lowered her gaze to him. She felt the heat of desire begin to pool between her legs at the sight of him. True to his heritage, Mulcahy was not circumcised, but as hard as he was, you would never know the difference. The medical part of her was pleased to see that he was meticulous about grooming and cleaning. The base of his penis was nestled in soft dark blonde hair that was neatly trimmed, which she found amusing for a man that up until a few weeks ago had never planned on ever having sex in his life. His penis was laying against his abdomen as she gently wrapped her hand around it, aware that he was watching her every move like a hawk. She lifted it, pulling it back until it pointed straight up, then let it go, watching it slap once again against his abdomen, making him jump just like before.

"Now you're just being mean," he accused with a shiver.

"Mmm…" she smiled and licked from base to head, making him groan loudly. "Am I?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She pulled his dick back once again and positioned herself so that she could take it into her mouth. Though she'd never done this before, Sherri had described it to her in detail, often using visual aids such as a cucumber or a banana. If Gail had thought her roommate to be crude and crass then, she'd have to remember to thank her for the impromptu lessons later. She slid her mouth down over the head, swirling her tongue around it and memorizing the feel of the soft skin, almost like a fine silk. His hand tangled in her curly hair and she could feel his fingers practically straining as he tried to hold back from forcing her further down his shaft. Her tongue found the frenulum at the underside of the head and she gave it a playful flick. John's hips bucked up involuntarily in response, and she let the force of it slide his cock further into her mouth.

"Jesus…" he swore softly, surprising both of them by using the Lord's name in such an inappropriate way.

She chuckled softly around his dick, and the vibrations made him cry out. He grabbed her hair roughly, stopping any further movement as his body shuddered almost violently. She realized she'd nearly made him cum. She carefully released him from her mouth and he released the grip on her hair, murmuring an apology. She shook her head and pushed up to sit between his legs.

"It's okay. I just don't want you to be finished yet…I want to feel you inside of me."

He swallowed hard, pushing up on his elbows as she moved to take off her underwear.

"No," he said gently, sitting up and reaching out to still her hands. "Let me…"

She leaned back on her elbows and John moved to kneel between her legs, gently grasping her underwear and sliding it down her legs. He didn't want to stare, but he couldn't seem to stop looking at her. Gail bent her knees a little, spreading her legs to give him a full view. John could feel his cock throbbing almost painfully in the anticipation of fitting himself inside of her. He knew he would want to explore her more fully later, but for the moment, the need to claim her was too great.

He moved over her gently, feeling her hands on his shoulders as she helped him settle comfortably against her. Gail shivered as the silver cross around his neck lightly brushed against the skin of her chest. With one knee braced on the floor for leverage, John reached between them, grasping himself and moving towards her opening. He groaned as the sensitive head of his dick encountered the slick wetness of her folds, nearly doing him in yet again. Gail's hand joined his between their bodies, her fingers parting herself around the head of his cock.

A much stronger explicative entered his mind, but he managed to keep from saying it. He took a moment to collect himself once again, then gently pushed in. Her tight walls immediately clamped around him and she made a pained hiss, her nails digging into his shoulder for a moment. He paused, not moving further in or pulling back, but giving her time to adjust.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly.

"Uh huh," came the tight reply. "Just go slow…"

"Of course." He brushed a kiss against her collarbone. "Say when…"

She nodded, taking a few deep breaths as she tried to relax, giving a short laugh, "I knew it would hurt the first time, but ouch." After a few more deep breaths, he felt her walls release him ever so slightly and she nodded. "Okay."

He pushed in further, this time encountering a little resistance. The part of him that was familiar with anatomy knew it was her hymen, acting as a barrier of purity, placed there by God, meant to be broken by the man who had taken her as his wife—him. He heard her sharp intake of breath and felt her nails dig into his shoulder again. He covered her mouth with his, trying to distract her with his tongue as he thrust forward as gently as possible. He could feel her hymen break and she cried into his mouth, a single tear sliding down her cheek. He kissed it away, giving her another moment to adjust, and then began to slowly rock his hips against hers.

The art of sex was a mystery to John. He had no way of knowing what techniques to employ, or what positions were even possible, and so he moved solely on instinct, letting the pleasure drive him forward. The feel of her surrounding his cock was amazing, and he suddenly understood why others who had previously experienced this could never seem to be satisfied. Her inner walls were slick and warm pushing against him with every thrust and pulling against ever retreat. It was a terrific sympathy, working him to one final crescendo that he could feel building once again deep in his loins. As his thrusts built in speed and intensity, Gail seemed to overcome her pain and was moaning pleasantly, lifting her hips to meet his every thrust.

"Oh, John!" she mewed, gripping his backside and pulling him in deeper as she pulled her legs up against his sides.

That same four letter word entered his mind, this time escaping in a sharp 'fuh' sound. He placed his hands on either side of her, planking himself above her so that he could thrust deeper into her. Her moans were becoming more breathy and she tossed her head back. His eyes traveled down to her breasts, watching them bounce from the movement of their bodies.

Her hand snuck down between her legs and he watched her pleasure herself even further. Her walls spasmed around his dick, nearly making his arms weak as all the blood rushed south, engorging his cock to its fullest. He growled, baring his teeth and throwing his own head back. He was too close now, he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Gail…oh, Gail…" he moaned.

"Yeah," she urged him on, furiously rubbing herself. Her walls clenched and she cried out, grinding up against him as she threw one arm around his neck, dragging him back down. The feel of her orgasm sent John completely over the edge and he came inside of her, body twitching and hips jerking as he rode out the intense wave of his orgasm.

He felt dizzy and lightheaded, practically seeing stars and floating above her weightlessly. It was a strange and wonderful sensation, but as the fog cleared from his mind, he realized he wasn't floating at all. In fact, he was practically crushing her beneath him. They were both panting heavily, a fine sheet of sweat covering their bodies and John weakly managed to roll off of her, onto his back.

Gail shuddered as his cock exited her body, making her sensitive walls quiver in response. She wanted to put a descriptive word on how exactly the sex had felt, but the only thing that came to mine was 'oh wow.' There had been pain, of course, but there had also been pleasure…oh the pleasure…

She turned her head to look at him. His eyes were closed, lips slightly parted the way they usually were when he slept. She smiled softly and rolled over towards him, laying her head on his chest. "That was wonderful," she murmured gently.

His arm went around her, draping across her shoulder. "More than wonderful," he said sleepily.

She smiled and closed her eyes and the two drifted off to sleep in the middle of his living room floor.

* * *

><p>Mulcahy was the first to stir, feeling completely disoriented. It took several seconds for him to piece together where he was and why he was laying in the middle of the floor naked with Gail. The images of that night filtered unbidden through his mind and he smiled fondly at how very perfect the night had been.<p>

Part of him wondered if he should feel guilty about what they'd done, but he didn't. He knew in the eyes of the law, and possibly the Church, that the vows they had made would not be recognized. That didn't bother him; they could remedy that with a public ceremony. He didn't doubt, however, that their vows were recognized by God just as they had been in the days before Christ was born.

John kissed the top of Gail's head and wrapped his arm tighter around her. Her skin felt cold to the touch and he turned on his side towards her, running his fingertips down her arm. She made a soft noise as if fighting to stay asleep and he smiled, laughing silently. He looked at his wrist watch, noting that it was still the wee hours of the morning. He wasn't sure what time Gail had to be at work, but hoped it wasn't until much later.

"We should move to the bedroom," he murmured down at her sleeping form, causing her to stir, if but a little. Her face buried against his chest and she made another soft noise before sighing.

"What time is it?" her sleepy voice asked, breath tickling the hair on his chest.

"About 2:30." He murmured, brushing her hair behind her ear. "What time do you have to be at work today?"

"Uhhh.." Gail was clearing wracking her sleepy brain to remember. "7 tonight. 7 to 7."

"12 hours again?" He asked in disbelief, remembering that only a few shorts days ago she'd had another 12 hour shift.

"Yeah. Should be my last 12 hour shift for a while, though."

"I hope so," he nuzzled her close to him, kissing her shoulder. "Come on, let's go get in bed."

John sat up and helped Gail up as well. She stood and stretched with a giant yawn, and his eyes traveled down her naked body in appreciation. He could feel the stir of arousal in his loins, but knew they were both far too tired for another tryst. They picked up their discarded clothing and John found his glasses as Gail turned off the lights, then both of them trudged back to his bedroom, pulling down the covers and crawling under.

Gail reclaimed her position against his chest, pressing a kiss against his shoulder as her arm squeezed him tightly across the middle. "You're right, this is much better."

"Certainly warmer," he chuckled softly as he tucked the covers around them.

"Mmm…I'll just steal my warmth from you."

"Oh, so then you don't want any covers?" He playfully pulled the covers off her backside, making her groan in protest and snuggle closer to his body. He laughed, replacing the covers and planting another kiss on top of her head.

She sighed contentedly, "Goodnight, John."

He smiled and closed his eyes ,"Goodnight, Gail."

* * *

><p>When Gail awoke the second time, light was streaming in through the window above them. At some point during the night she must have rolled over because she was now facing away from John and he was pressed against her back, his face against her neck, hand flat and warm across her belly. She could feel the press of his cock against her backside, indicating the unconscious morning erection that most men tended to get. She tried to remember if she'd ever noticed it before when they'd shared a bed, but he'd always slept on his back, and her hands had never dared to wander that low.<p>

She grinned somewhat wickedly, pressing back firmly against the hardness. She could feel the intimate muscle tense as it further engorged itself with blood, but John continued to sleep on, oblivious to his arousal. Gail turned over as gently as she could, trying not to wake him. She'd come to realize that he was a fairly sound sleeper, but she crept down the length of the bed, under the covers until her mouth was even with his cock. She gently wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft and lightly ran her tongue against the head. She could taste the remnants of sex lingering on his skin and lapped at him for several moments before she took him fully into her mouth, her free hand reaching down to cup his testicles. She felt him stir then, hearing his soft moan as he shifted slightly to lie on his back. Gail moved between his legs, her mouth moving up and down his shaft, sucking the head before she flicked the frenulum with her tongue. One hand accompanied her mouth, stroking up and down, gently squeezing, thumb pressing against the prominent vein protruding along the side, as her other hand fondled and squeezed his testicles.

One large hand found its way beneath the covers, fingers tangling in her hair as he panted and moaned, pulled further and further from sleep and deeper and deeper into bliss. "Where did you learn to do that?" Mulcahy murmured, voice slightly muffled by the covers over her heard.

Gail smiled and slowly let him slide out of her mouth with a soft, wet pop. She kissed her way up his flat stomach, loving the firmness of the muscles of his abs. He wasn't chiseled like a body builder, but he was lean and toned. His chest was just as toned and she ran her hand across the hair, feeling the tickle of it against her palm as she continued to slide up.

John pulled the covers up so she could slide out from under them and she found his lips as she emerged, settling her body flush against his. He moaned softly, not used to the press of a woman's naked body against his own. Her breasts were against his chest, her legs tangled around his. He could even feel the soft patch of hair between her legs. It was nearly sensory overload.

"Honestly?" she asked with a blush as their lips parted. He nodded, wrapping his arms around her to hold her on top of him. "Sherri. She took it upon herself to show me the 'proper technique.' I felt rather silly at the time, watching her practice on a cucumber as she instructed me, but I feel like it's paid off now."

John wasn't sure if he was amused or appalled, but at least he agreed with her. "It certainly has paid off."

"John?" Gail's voice was serious now, her brow crinkled as she considered the thought in her head. "What did you do whenever you became aroused before? I mean…were you ever aroused?"

"Oh…well, yes, of course. Arousal isn't something one can control, unfortunately…hard as one may try. However, I found that most of the time, engaging in another activity that required my full attention would help remedy the problem. If that didn't work, a cold shower certainly did the trick."

Gail laughed softly as he smiled, her finger tracing along the silver chain and cross tangled around his neck. "Did I…ever…arouse you?" She asked shyly.

"That night you hugged me," he admitted softly. "Which is part of the reason I reacted so strongly. If my feelings for you weren't alarming enough, that certainly was."

"Have you ever…pleasured yourself?"

Mulcahy's cheeks burned with redness at her question. This was certainly the last conversation he expected when he woke up that morning. "Catholics consider self-abuse to be a sinful act."

She stared at him, waiting for more, obviously not accepting that as an answer.

"Yes." He said shortly, the blush creeping up to his hairline. "But not after I became ordained." He wanted to leave the conversation at that, but curiosity was getting the better of him and he simply couldn't stop himself from asking, "Have you?"

"Yes," she admitted, her own cheeks flushing. She bit her lip, considering her next thought. "Would you…do you want to watch?"

He has having a hard time connecting the dots, his mind still trying to wrap around the mere thought of her in such an intimate situation. "Watch…?"

Gail giggled softly, leaning down to kiss his lips again before moving off of him and positioning herself so that her feet were on the pillow. She laid back on the bed in a wanton position, knees bent and slightly parted, looking at John as if for permission, which came in the form of him reaching for his glasses. He positioned himself up against the pillows, completely enthralled, and watched her hands as they slid down over her breasts, kneading and massaging them. She pulled at her nipples, making them harden. One hand remained over a breast as another slowly slid down her stomach and in between her legs.

John swallowed hard, and felt his cock spasm slightly where it rested rock-hard against his abdomen. His eyes were locked on her hand as she slipped a finger along the moist slit between her legs. Unconsciously, his own hand went to his cock, wrapping around the swollen member tightly and lightly stroking himself.

Gail was watching John carefully as she explored and teased her own body. His eyes were transfixed on her and she nearly burst into flames from the intensity of her blush under his gaze. When he began to stroke himself, she felt a wave of arousal pulling in her abdomen. She parted herself, holding her sex exposed to him as she touched her clit and gasped. She watched John lick his lips, saw his hand tighten around his cock, and suddenly she wanted to feel a different part of him inside of her.

Still fingering herself, Gail fantasized about his long, delicate fingers. His nails were always so nicely manicured—just like the rest of him—and his hands were just…beautiful. "Touch me, John." She whispered hotly, legs falling open a little more. "Put your fingers inside me."

She could feel his body tense next to hers, his utter inexperience in all things sexual shining through. Though she only had experience with her own body, she knew that—of the two of them—she was still ahead of the class in this area. She was willing to bet that his tension stemmed from not knowing how or what to do. Gail released her breast and reached for his hand. He let go of his cock and shifted so that he was sitting beside her now, able to easily reach out and touch any part of her he desired to.

Gail gently folded each of his fingers except for his index and middle finger. She brought his hand to her mouth and sucked the two fingers seductively, getting them moist with her saliva before she propped up on one elbow and moved his hand down between her legs. Mulcahy swallowed, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would explode from his chest.

Finding her entrance, John slowly began to enter her with his fingers. She gasped and arched her back and he stilled his hand, thinking she was in pain as she had been the night before, but she then made a noise of protest and pushed her hips down, slipping more of his fingers inside of her.

The feel of her most intimate part against his fingers was fascinating—and arousing. He could feel the strange texture of the inner walls shrouded in a slick, silky wetness. It was tight around his fingers, the muscles gripping lightly and seeming to pull upward, encouraging his fingers further in. Though he knew he was meant to be pleasuring Gail, he couldn't help but use the opportunity to learn more about female anatomy. He was surprised that his fingers slipped so easily inside of her, all the way up to proximal phalanx. Tentatively, he moved his fingers inside of her, wiggling and pushing them apart in a scissoring motion that made Gail cry out and press her hips down against his hand again.

"Oh, God, yes!" Gail exclaimed.

John couldn't help but feel both emboldened and amused by her cry of passion. Though it took him a moment to establish a rhythm, John quickly picked up on what Gail seemed to like most. He slid his fingers in and out of her, curling them up as they slipped in as far as they could, then forking them as he slid them back out. Gail's body was trembling in ecstasy, and as John's eyes traveled from her face, down her body to the wetness between her legs where he was pleasuring her, one thought entered his mind: He wanted to taste her.

John shifted so that he was lying on his stomach between her legs, his face hovering just above her sex. He used his free hand to remove his glasses and Gail took them from him as she looked down the length of her body at him. From this near to her, he could smell the scent of her arousal. It was strong but indescribable, though not overpowering or unpleasant. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh as he withdrew his fingers from within her. He felt her hands slide into his hair, gently encouraging him towards her center.

Knowing that John had never done this before in his life, nor probably had no clue as to what exactly to do, Gail parted herself again to him, exposing her clit. His eyes flicked up to meet hers briefly before he bent his head down and kissed her clit. Gail bit her lip, her body tingling pleasantly. He approached her clit much the same way he would if he was kissing her lips, which wasn't disagreeable by any standards, but wouldn't exactly make her reach her peak. Just as she was about to offer instruction, though, John's tongue snaked out and slowly licked her clit. Gail practically shot off the bed, her hips bucking up against his face.

He laughed with complete abandon and Gail wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

"Sorry," she managed, blushing furiously.

"Don't be," he murmured against her, stroking her hipbone with his fingertips as he returned to his task. This time he seemed more sure about what he was doing and Gail buried her hands in his short hair, sighing and moaning as John alternated between kissing, licking and sucking on her clit. When his fingers reentered her, Gail cried out. What he was doing to her was incredible, and part of her mind wasn't letting her forget that, up until a few weeks ago, the man between her legs—currently licking her to climax—was a priest. Those hands had blessed other people, that tongue had spoken to God and forgiven sins, those lips had kissed that purple stole he always wore during sessions in OR…the thought was too much.

John could feel Gail's body practically seize up as she cried out and found her release. He could feel the spasm of her inner walls as they clamped tightly around his fingers, squeezing them tightly as a rush of fluid coated them, spilling out against his chin. After a moment, he realized it was growing difficult to breathe and that Gail was clutching his head tightly, holding him in place as she thrust her hips up, grinding against his face and hand to eke out as much pleasure as possible. He tried to breathe through his nose rather than his mouth, and let her—literally—ride out the waves of her orgasm. When she had finished, her grip on him loosened and he was able to pull back and draw a breath.

Gail was panting, eyes closed, completely sated and lost in bliss. When John pulled back and slowly pulled his fingers out of her, she moaned softly and looked at him. He was squinting as he looked at his fingers, studying the slick, milky looking fluid coating them. She felt herself blush deeply when he tentatively sucked the fluid off his fingers, tasting the evidence of her orgasm. He looked at her then with a strange look that lingered between uncertainty and cockiness.

"I trust that was satisfactory?" He said with a teasing note to his voice.

"More than," she breathed, still coming off her high. "But we have a problem."

"Oh?"

Gail pushed herself up on her knees, then pushed him onto his back and straddled his still-hard cock. "Only one of us came."

John felt himself twitch at the sultry tone her voice had taken as she ran her hands down his chest, lifting up slightly and taking his cock into her hand. Before he could say anything at all, Gail impaled herself on him, this time easily taking him all the way to the hilt without any resistance. Anything he had been about to say, turned into a sob of satisfaction. His hands found her hips, fingers gripping tightly as she began to move above him

Still sensitive from her release only moment's ago, Gail moaned loudly at the feel of John deep inside of her. Last night he'd been on top and there had been so much pain when he'd entered her, but now that was nothing but bliss. Though she wasn't sure how sex felt to him, Gail was moved by what felt good to her, and currently that involved grinding herself against him.

John watched her breasts sway and bounce as she moved above him, reaching up to cup them, hold them, squeeze them. He was astounded that she still was able to keep going even after orgasming moments before. He wasn't sure he would have had her stamina. Gail braced her hands against his chest, supporting herself as she rocked her hips against his. She looked down at him, eyes dark with desire.

"Does this feel good?" She asked him, breathlessly.

"Oh yes…" he murmured. "Very good."

"Good," she smiled, panting as she leaned down and pressed her lips to his, forcing her tongue into his mouth as she slid one hand between their bodies to fondle his balls. He moaned into her mouth at that, his hands wrapping around her back and down over the curve of her ass. Her nails dug into his sac making him buck up against her. She repeated the action and he again bucked up against her, pulling away from her mouth to gasp.

"D-don't…" he said softly. "That's going to make me…"

She giggled. "I know. That's why I'm doing it."

John closed his eyes as she did it again, squeezing harder. He could feel his balls draw up tightly against his body as all the blood in his body headed to his cock. He was close, so close, and he didn't want to be. He wanted to last, to make love to her all day until they were exhausted and couldn't move, but she had to work later, and there was no way he'd last more than a few more seconds.

When he came, John cried out, gripping her tightly as his hips thrust up against her to meet her every move. His entire body tensed up and he could feel his release leaving his body and filling hers. She moaned above him, her walls beginning to tighten and spasm around him, only adding to his bliss. His orgasm seemed to last an eternity and when he finally finished cumming, he felt like he'd run 10 miles. Gail was laying against him, head on his chest, breathing just as hard as he was.

"I could get used to this," she panted against his neck.

John laughed softly. "So could I."

After a moment Gail lifted her head and looked in his eyes, propping herself up on his chest. "Are we really married now, John?"

"In the eyes of God we are," he told her, confident. "But I don't think our vows make us legally married."

"So what do we do now? Do we get legally married? Do we move in together?"

"Both, I suppose." Mulcahy answered, thinking logically. "I can't imagine that either of our families are likely to be happy with our decision last night, though I never really cared much about my parent's opinions. But, I don't wish for your family to be disappointed in you."

Gail bit her lip. "Maybe we shouldn't tell anyone. Not that I'm ashamed of course, but I kind of like that only you, me and God know right now. It feels…special. You know?"

"What about living together?"

"I'd like to stay here with you," she told him, assuredly. "Maybe I'll keep my room with Sherri just until we have a wedding ceremony for our families, but I won't stay there unless necessary. Is that okay?"

"Well, I don't like to be deceitful," Mulcahy said slowly. "But I can appreciate the situation we're in now. Under the circumstances I think it's alright, but perhaps we should make plans to have a public ceremony soon."

Gail sighed. "How am I ever going to explain this to my mother? I haven't told her anything about you. Last she knew there was no one I was even interested in. It'll be quite a shock to announce that we're getting married."

"Maybe we should just be truthful in the matter. We have known each other for a few years."

"Yeah…" Gail agreed, considering. "How do you feel about going to La Grange for lunch on Sunday? I'll call my mom and tell them to expect us."

"That sounds fine. Is there anything I should know about your parents you haven't yet told me? Should I ask your father for his blessing?"

"I don't know," Gail answered honestly, looking into his eyes and offering a shrug. "Couldn't hurt."

"If I do, I certainly hope he doesn't say no." Mulcahy laughed.

* * *

><p>TBC<p>

Ego conjúngo nobis in matrimónium. In nominee Patris, et Fílii, et Spíritus Sancti. - Latin for "I conjoined with us in marriage. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen." or basically "I pronounce as as married."


	9. Chapter 9

"Don't panic," were the first words out of Gail's mouth as she came in the front door of John's apartment.

He looked up from where he was seated at the couch working on a lesson plan for his classes that would be starting in less than a month. "Why? What's the matter?"

She could hear the worry in his tone and put her hands on her hips. "I said don't panic."

He tried to give her a reproachful look but couldn't hide the playful smile. She moved a book to the coffee table and sat next to him.

"I called my parents to tell them I'd like to visit Sunday…and that I'd be bringing a very special friend. They've decided that rather than us travel there for simply an afternoon, they're coming up here for the weekend. They'll be at my apartment in an hour."

"Oh, well…That is a surprise."

"I thought I should give you some warning. Mother and Dad don't typically stay the weekend and my apartment is so small…would it be alright if Dad stays here with you?"

"Well, certainly. I'll change the sheets the bed and I can sleep on the couch."

Gail wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Thank you. You're wonderful."

"Well, it certainly won't be as nice as having you here with me, but I suppose I can survive a few days without you." He teased, pulling back to kiss her.

"The only problem is that I have a shift tomorrow from 9 to 3. Do you think you can entertain them while I'm at work?"

"Absolutely. It would be my pleasure."

"My mother will ask you a million questions."

"It's quite alright. Is there anything I shouldn't mention, other than the obvious?"

"I can't think of anything. I don't plan to lie to the about anything, just omit certain facts for now."

"Very well. I think I can handle that."

"I have to get over there and clean up a bit. Come over about 7?"

"You're sure?"

"Either that or my mother will come here and bust down your door to meet you."

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you around 7."

Gail leaned in and kissed him again, this time longer and with more passion. "I love you."

"Not as much as I love you," John smiled.

"Charmer." She grinned, kissing the end of his nose before she hurried towards the door. "Oh! Be sure and hide any of my belongings that I've left lying around the last day or so."

He waved her out the door, then looked at his wrist watch. He had just over an hour to tidy up his own apartment and change into something more appropriate to meet her parents.

Starting with the bedroom, John changed the sheets and pillowcases on his bed, putting the soiled ones in the hamper with his dirty laundry. He straightened up his belongings, putting the letters from his sister into a drawer and tucking Gail's picture back into his Bible. He wasn't sure her father would find it appropriate for him to have a picture of her wearing shorts and a tank top on display in his bedroom. He went to the bathroom next, taking Gail's towel and wash rag from their place next to his and depositing those in the hamper as well. She had left an extra toothbrush, hairbrush and a bottle of perfume and he gathered those, tucking them into his sock drawer near the back. Finally John made it out to the living room and straightened up his books and notes, piling them on the bar.

Satisfied that everything was in its place and that nothing personal of Gail's was lying out in the open, John went to change clothes. He selected a pair of light khakis trousers with a matching jacket, white button down shirt, and a seersucker tie alternated yellow, blue, green and orange lines into a grid-like pattern. It had been a tie that Gail had picked out during their shopping extravaganza.

With ten minutes to spare before he needed to be at her apartment, John ran a comb through his hair, then headed out.

* * *

><p>"Mother! Dad!" Gail greeted as her parents knocked on the door just as she'd finished her flight-of-the-bumblebee to clean up her apartment. Sherri, once she heard that Gail's parents were in town, had called her new beau and asked if he cared for a weekend rendezvous so that she didn't have to be around. Gail was glad for small miracles, as she didn't need Sherri opening her big mouth about Gail having spent the last few nights with John.<p>

"Oh, Gail, look at you," her mother said as she hugged her daughter. "You look positively run down!"

"Now, Nan, don't start henning her the minute we walk in the door," Gail's father scolded as he leaned in to hug his daughter next.

"Well, really," Nancy Harris sighed in exasperation, but let the subject drop.

"John will be joining us in a little bit," Gail informed them.

"Shouldn't you…go and change, dear?"

Gail sighed, knowing she'd never win the battle against her mother. "Yes, Mother. I was just about to do that. Do sit down and make yourselves comfortable."

She hurried back to her room and changed out of her hospital uniform and into a rather demur dress with a belted waist and a gored skirt. It was deep emerald and the blouse of the dress buttoned up to just above the cleavage and had a collar with short sleeves. She put on a pearl necklace her father had given her last Christmas and fixed her hair so that it was pinned at the sides with bobby pins and fell down around her shoulders in soft wavy curls. She wore a pair of flats rather than heels, then returned to the living room where her mother was rearranging several items in the living room as she normally did while her father had turned on the television.

"Much better," Nancy smiled as Gail sat down next to her father. "Isn't that better, Henry?"

"You look very nice," Henry said, giving his daughter an empathetic smile. "Tell us about this fella of yours, Gail."

"Oh, yes…well, his name is Francis Mulcahy—"

"Oh, an Irish boy?" Henry interrupted.

"Well, he's hardly a boy, Daddy. He's 37. But yes, his grandparents came here from Ireland." Gail clarified.

"Where did you meet him, Lu?" Nancy interrupted this time.

"Korea, actually. We were stationed together at a M*A*S*H unit for a few weeks."

"Oh? Is he a doctor?" Henry asked, hopeful.

"Well…no." Gail blushed. "He…well, he was a priest."

She saw her parents' eyes grow wide before her mother spoke. "Was?"

"A Catholic priest, to be exact," Gail continued. "He's recently decided to leave the priesthood."

"So he's unemployed, then?" Henry asked.

"Oh no, Daddy! He's going to be teaching at Loyola University here in Chicago. Religious studies and Latin."

"A professor," Nancy said, sounding intrigued this time rather than scandalized. "Well, that's certainly a noble profession, don't you think, Henry?"

"Yes, I suppose it is." Henry still sounded less than pleased.

"Oh, Daddy, you'll love him, I promise. He's even offered to let you stay at his apartment while you and Mother and here."

"I'm sure if he was a man of the cloth, then he is an upstanding gentleman," Henry said, kissing Gail's forehead in acceptance of her choices. "I can't wait to meet him."

Gail sighed softly and the conversation shifted to her work at the hospital and what her parents had recently been doing. Finally, a knock at the door signaled John's arrival and she nearly leapt up to answer it, wishing they would be out of earshot long enough to warn him that her parents already knew a great deal about him.

"Hi," she smiled, letting him inside.

"Hello." He smiled back before his eyes drifted to her parents. They were both quite tall, but differently built. Mr. Harris was slightly more rotund than his angular wife. He had dark hair, like Gail's, while her hair was quite blonde and perfectly coiffed into the latest style. Her face was the same shape as Gail's, but it was Mr. Harris who had given Gail her dark eyes.

"John, I'd like you to meet my parents—Henry and Nancy Harris. Mother, Daddy, this is John."

Mulcahy held out his hand to her father. "Mr. Harris, it's a pleasure to meet you. Mrs. Harris, an absolute delight."

Nancy looked thrilled by his manners, but Henry looked at him skeptically. "You go by John rather than Francis?"

"Gail once told me that Francis was 'much too stuffy' and that she actually preferred Johnny," Mulcahy said with a smile. "Most of the time, she just calls me John, which I've come to prefer as well."

An awkward silence fell over the room and Gail took John's hand. "Well, come in and sit. Can I get anyone a drink?"

"You don't have any wine, do you dear?" Nancy asked.

"I'm afraid I don't, Mother."

"Oh, well, just a splash of water then."

Mr. and Mrs. Harris sat next to each other on the sofa and John took up position in one of the arm chairs next to the television. The three of them were observing each other carefully as Gail filled a glass with water and brought it to her mother, turning off the television as she sat on the floor next to John's legs.

"Gail tells us you were a priest." Mrs. Harris said before casually sipping the water.

"Oh, why, yes. I studied under the Jesuits at Loyola University in Maryland where I received a Masters in Divinity and became ordained. I returned to my hometown of Philadelphia for a time to work in the church before I decided to go to Chaplain school for the Army, and was then sent to Uijeongbu, South Korea to serve at the 4077th M*A*S*H unit. I was stationed there for the duration of the war, and stayed for sometime after the cease fire to complete the work I was doing with a local orphanage before I returned stateside."

"Why did you leave the Church?" Henry asked.

"Just before the end of the war, our camp underwent heavy artillery fire and I had gone out to free some Korean POW's, who were basically sitting ducks. A mortar shell fell and I was deafened by the concussive blast of it. I had one of the doctors swear not to say anything because I knew the injury would get me discharged and I couldn't leave the orphans. When I did finally come home, I was deeply disturbed. I felt I had no purpose anymore. Being deaf certainly had an impact on my abilities as a priest—I couldn't hear confessions or give absolution. My sister Kathy, who is also in the Church, called my former commanding officer in the hopes that he might be able to help. He was, and I underwent a very experimental surgery that restored my hearing. He also offered me the Chaplaincy at the VA Hospital in River Bend, Missouri, which is where I was located before moving here. I suppose the true reason I left the priesthood, however, is that I felt that I was being called to another path."

"That is quite the story," Mrs. Harris said. "And you knew Gail in Korea?"

"Oh yes," John smiled, looking down at Gail, who smiled up at him. "She was quite the ambitious nurse. As I recall, she earned the nickname 'Nurse Doctor' while she was there. I was one of a handful of people who helped Gail study for her medical exams. We developed quite a fondness for one another."

"I didn't think that Catholics allowed priests to develop relationships with women." Mr. Harris' tone was somewhat accusatory.

"Physical relationships, no," John replied. "When I realized my feelings for Gail were deeper than they should be for a man in my position, I knew I needed to reexamine myself. I think some people have called it 'soul searching' but priests call it a 'sabbatical.' I spent several weeks in Montana surrounded by nothing but God and nature to understand my feelings and consider my choices. As it was, I felt that my path was leading me towards a life with Gail. I spoke with her before I made any decisions and we realized that we both wanted the same thing. Before I resigned from the Church, I spoke with the president of Loyola here in Chicago and was able to procure a teaching job. It seemed that things work out just the way they were meant to."

"What exactly are your intentions with my daughter, John?" Mr. Harris asked plainly.  
>"With all due respect, Mr. Harris," John said calmly. "My intentions toward her have never been immoral. With your blessing, I would intend for Gail to be my lawfully-wedded wife."<p>

Gail could hear the deliberate choice of wording in his phrase: blessing rather than permission, lawfully-wedded wife as opposed to simply wife. They were already wed, so her father's permission for a legal ceremony would not mean much to either of them, but his blessing certainly would. Gail knew that her father's seemingly uptight demeanor was simply a test for John to see how he would hold up under pressure.

There was a tense silence as Mr. Harris said nothing. Gail could feel John growing uneasy beside her.

"Well, who's hungry?" Mr. Harris finally said.

"Oh, Henry," Nancy scoffed. "Nevermind him, John dear."

"Daddy," Gail said, giving her dad a disapproving look.

"Oh, it's just a gag," Henry said before climbing to his feet. John stood as well. "You'll take care of her, won't you?"

"You can count on it, sir."

Henry held out his hand, "Then, John, you have my blessing. Welcome to the family."

"Thank you, Mr. Harris." Mulcahy said, shaking the man's hand.

"Ah-Ah…it's Henry now."

John smiled, "Yes, of course."

"Oh! This is so exciting!" Gail's mother got up from the couch and came over to give him a hug and kiss his cheek. "Henry, get your camera. I want a picture of the two of them so I can show everyone back home Gail's handsome fiancé."

John blushed and offered his hand to Gail who was still seated on the floor. She pulled herself up and kissed his other cheek, whispering in his ear. "You're doing great. They love you."

"We simply must start planning the wedding while I'm here, Gail. I never thought I'd live to see my only daughter get married." Nancy said, her eyes becoming moist with tears.

"Oh, Mother…" Gail sighed as Nancy nearly crushed Gail in a tearful embrace.

"Sure you're ready to take on this family?" Henry teased, nudging John in the ribs.

"Piece of cake," John laughed softly.  
>The four of them went out to eat at a very upscale restaurant to celebrate John and Gail's "engagement". Mr. Harris had offered to pay, but John hadn't felt comfortable with that and offered to split the bill. Though Gail knew that the wedding ceremony was just for legalities, she couldn't help but get swept up in the planning as she and her mother plotted over dinner.<p>

Gail shared the ideas she had for the ceremony and her mother offered suggestions. John listened with half his attention while the other half was focused on a different discussion with her father.

"What church will you be married in?" Nancy asked Gail.

"Oh…gee…" Gail said, bringing John's full attention to the conversation. This they hadn't talked about at any length. She was looking at him for help, not certain if he would demand a Catholic wedding or would settle for being married in her parent's church. John seemed to be reading her mind.

"A Catholic ceremony would only be possible if Gail converted to Catholicism," he informed them, then held her gaze. "I would not be offended if you wanted to have the wedding elsewhere."

"What would I have to do to become Catholic?" Gail asked seriously.

"It's a process known as the RCIA—Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults. There are several steps that you are required to take before you go through Confirmation and are allowed to participate in the Eucharist."

"What steps?" Nancy asked, intrigued.

"The Pre-Catechumenate is the first step. Basically it would give Gail an opportunity to learn about the Catholic Church in order for her to make an informed decision about whether or not she wished to convert. The Catechumenate is the most formal part of the process. Gail would be expected to participate in sharing the Liturgy of the Word by being an active part of the church and getting to know other Catholics. During this step, she would go through the Rite of Election, where the priest and several other key individuals would declare that she is ready to receive the Sacraments of Initiation. You would stand before the church and make a declaration to become an active member of the Catholic Church. Usually this particular rite takes place during the first Sunday of Lent. Purification and Enlightenment deals with baptism, confirmation and participating in the Holy Eucharist at the Easter Vigil. Mystagogy is the final stage, and some believe that it never truly has an ending. It's a period of reflection and teaching to help incorporate you into the Catholic community."

"When does Lent start?"

"In February. 40 days before Easter Sunday."

"So, if I convert to Catholicism, then we wouldn't be able to have a Catholic wedding until after Easter?" Gail clarified.  
>"Well, that's nearly a year away!" Nancy said, obviously aghast at having to wait so long for her daughter's wedding.<p>

Gail paid her no attention as she and John held each other's eyes. A year was certainly a long time to have to keep their marriage a secret, but she appreciated John's faith. If marriage was about sacrifice, then she would sacrifice the year it would take for her to become part of his church community. "I want to do it."

"Are you certain?" John asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Gail, a year is…" Nancy butted in.

"A long time, I know," Gail interrupted her mother, but smiled at John. "It just means that you'll have more time to perfect the details, Mother."

John wished that he would have a few minutes alone to talk to Gail about her decision. While he was happy she was willing to covert for the sake of their marriage, he was worried about things that might happen in the interim…namely if she were to become pregnant. They would have to be very, very careful.

When it came time for everyone to part ways for the evening, John felt a little nervous about being alone with Gail's father. They bid the women goodnight at Gail's apartment and then drove to John's in Henry's car.

"Lucky you live close by," Henry said. "I don't know how you manage without a car, but I sure remember the days of not having one myself."

"Yes, well, I've never truly needed one before. Since leaving the Church, I'm finding there are so many things I've never done before now."

"I've never known anyone who was a former priest," Henry noted. "You seem far too young to have been ordained and served as a chaplain in the war, but Gail mentioned you were in your 30s?"

"Yes. 37 since March. I understand our age difference might be a concern—"

"I'll admit I was a little surprised that you were older, but in thinking about it, I shouldn't be, really. Gail has always been more mature than her peers. Seems only natural she'd fancy herself a man nearly 10 years older. And you left the priesthood just to be with her?"

"Well, she was the catalyst, yes. But I truly left because I felt that I could no longer do any good there. I'd been…discontent with my position for some time. It took realizing my feelings for Gail to simply examine the whole package, as it were. I knew in Korea that I had a strong attraction to her, as she did to me. I wrote to my sister about her several times. Kathy always has the best advice when it comes to such matters. Now she says she knew then that Gail and I were right for each other."

"Your sister sounds like a smart woman. Is she older than you?"

"She is. I'm the youngest of seven children."

"Seven children!" Henry screeched, reminding John of Gail. "Your poor parents."

John laughed as they pulled up along the curb and headed up to his apartment. "Yes, we had quite the house-full at times, but thankfully as I grew up, my older brothers moved out. We all shared one room together. My mother said that as a baby I had to sleep in a drawer."

Henry laughed and gave a cursory look around John's apartment. "Looks like Gail's had her hand in helping you decorate."

"Oh, yes. I couldn't have done it without her help honestly." John felt himself blushing as her father stood in the very spot that they had consummated their impromptu vows. "Let me take your things. I'm glad to offer you my room."

"Thank you, John. That's quite kind of you."

The two men sat in the living room sharing stories and getting to know one another. Henry asked John what priests do for fun and John had laughed, saying that he'd always considered himself a bit unconventional.

"I enjoy playing piano—ragtime tunes mostly, though I'm certainly not a concert pianist. And I was a boxer in my youth. I even coached a few boys of my own."

"A boxer, eh? What class did you box in?"

"Featherweight. I was, and still am, quite puny compared to most boxers, but I was fast and had a mean right hook. I was asked to join Willie Pep's stable once."

"You don't say," Henry sounded impressed. "Boy, how different life would have been if you'd gone on to be a pro boxer."

"I often think the same thing, though I would have never met Gail."

"You're quite fond of her, aren't you?"

"I love her with all of my heart."

"Well, John, you certainly have my blessing."

* * *

><p>When Sunday came, John had breakfast with Gail and her parents at the diner down the street from Gail's apartment. Though he would miss the Latin mass, he still planned to make the 11:30 service and was surprised to see Gail and her parents in their Sunday best as well.<p>

"Is it alright if we attend church with you, John?" Nancy had asked over a cup of coffee.

"Why, yes, of course. Everyone is welcome to attend services, but I'm afraid you won't be allowed to participate in the Eucharist—the sharing of the body and blood of Christ."

"Well, that's alright." Nancy said.

"Will you show me who I need to talk to about converting?" Gail asked.

"You're truly certain of this?" John asked again, amazed she would make such a sacrifice for him and their union.

"Yes. It's the least I can do." She smiled.

He nodded, smiling back. "Of course. I'll introduce you all to Father Duda. He'll be quite pleased, I'm sure."

After breakfast, the four of them strolled to John's newfound church. The morning service was letting out, which meant they had just under an hour before the next service. Father Duda was out on the steps, bidding the last of the morning patrons farewell as John and the Harris' approached.

"Well, good morning," Duda said, shaking John's hand. "I see you've brought some guests today."

"Good morning, Father. This is Gail Harris, my w—fiancée, and her parents, Henry and Nancy Harris." John felt his face flush as he'd nearly called Gail his wife. "Gail has told me she would like to begin the RCIA so that we may have a Catholic wedding."

"Is that so, child?" Duda asked, looking to Gail.

"Yes, Father."

"Well, then if I might steal you away from you for a moment, I would love to share with you some information so that you may begin your journey."

"Yes, that would be just fine," Gail smiled and kissed John's cheek as the priest led her into the church.

"This is a beautiful church," Nancy said as she looked up at the old structure. "If you do marry here, it will be simply splendid."

John led them inside and showed them around a bit. Catholic churches tended to be more ornate than some of the protestant churches—stained glass depictions of the apostles, and the Holy Mother, the carving of Jesus on the cross that hung as the focal point for the sanctuary, the large organ pipes that stretched floor to ceiling.

They sat somewhat close to the front because Nancy was afraid that they wouldn't be able to hear, despite John's assurance that the church was designed so that even the softest voice would carry to the back.

"Do you miss being up there presenting Mass?" Nancy asked as they waited for Gail to rejoin them.

"At times, yes, but I was never truly a confident public speaker. Large crowds tended to make me quite nervous."

Henry laughed. "So you're going from one occupation that required you to speak before large groups to another that's going to require the same thing?"

John nodded, "At least the class sizes of Loyola are quite small."

Henry laughed again and clapped John on the shoulder. Gail soon joined them, smiling as she sat next to John. "He thinks I'm ready for the second step. He feels that you will be an excellent sponsor, if you'd like to be."

"Of course," John smiled. "Anything I can do. Any questions, I might answer. I'm here for you."

After the service was over, they decided to get lunch before her parents needed to head back. They returned to the diner, as Henry had greatly enjoyed their coffee, and this time John picked up the tab. When they said their goodbyes and waved her parents off, Gail turned to him and pulled him into a deep kiss by the lapels of his jacket.

"I've been aching to do that," she told him as they parted. "I hope this weekend wasn't too hectic."

"Not at all, your parents are quite different than mine. They care a great deal for you, Gail."

"Yeah, too much sometimes." She teased. "Thank you for everything, really. Mother couldn't stop talking about you. I think she expects that we'll get married and have children right away."

"About that," John said as he led her inside to her apartment. "Since, legally, we won't marry until next spring, we should be quite careful in our…coupling. I can't imagine they would feel so strongly about me if you were to end up with child before our wedding."

"Yes, you're right. That hadn't even crossed my mind," Gail said, stricken by a sudden thought. "You don't suppose I could already be, do you?"

John paled. "Well…I…I have no idea. I honestly know only the very basics of menstruation."

"Well…I should start in a few days. I guess if I'm late…"

"Suddenly this just became a little more disquieting," he admitted, taking her hand.

* * *

><p>Gail was distracted during her shift at the hospital. It had been six days since her conversation with John and three since she should have started her period. She hadn't told him yet, though she could tell that he was as anxious as she was about it.<p>

_It would be my dumb luck to get pregnant after one night…and one morning… _Gail thought as she flipped through a chart on her rounds.

"Well, well, well," Sherri's voice sounded from nearby. "If it isn't the goody-goody gone bad."

"Hi Sherri."

"What's the matter, Gaily, you look upset? Trouble in paradise?"

"What? Oh, no…no, everything's fine. It's just…"

"Just what?"

Gail sighed. "I'm late."

"Oh?" Sherri smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like things haven't been so innocent since you started staying with him."

"It's not like that," Gail said looking up at Sherri. "I mean…we have, but it…oh, you wouldn't understand."

"Try me." Sherri said crossing her arms with that self-righteous smirk still on her face.

"John and I exchanged vows in his living room floor with God as our only witness. We're technically married now, but not legally so."

Sherri blinked, the smirk sliding off her face. "Okay, that is a new one. When do you plan to get 'legally' married?"

"In the spring," Gail sighed. "I'm converting to Catholicism so we can have a Catholic wedding."

"Oh, God, Gail," Sherri laughed. "You've got it so bad for him. He's not making you do this, is he?"

"No!" Gail scoffed. "I'm doing it because I want to, because I know it means a lot to him. I'm not concerned about when we get legally married, but if I'm pregnant…."

"Yeah, the Catholics probably aren't going to like the whole 'but we said our own vows' explanation, nor are they likely to believe Immaculate Conception. Did you tell your parents about all this?"

"Of course not!" Gail hissed in a whisper. "Even John realizes that what we did isn't going to stand up in the eyes of our family, or the church or the court or whoever, but it doesn't change what we did or how we feel. We are married and he is my husband, and if I'm pregnant…we'll just figure out what to do about it. You have to promise not to tell anyone about this."

"Please, who would I tell? Who would believe me?"

"Sherri, please, just promise."

"Alright, alright, I promise." Sherri drawled in annoyance. "Sheesh, Gail…most people get mellow after they get laid, not uptight."

"Harris!" A gruff voice bellowed from the end of the ward. Gail looked over to see the one of the doctors on duty coming towards her with a clipboard in hand. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Sir?"

"See you later, Gaily." Sherri muttered as she shuffled off, leaving Gail alone with the irate doctor.

* * *

><p>John carried a box of books up to the sixth floor of the Lewis Towers building at the recently built Water Tower Campus. The structure was only a decade old, but already it was requiring maintenance on the two elevators housed in the building. By the time John reached the sixth floor, he felt wholly out of shape and was sweating profusely. He took a deep breath, steadying the box under one arm as he wiped his brow with the other and headed down the hallway, searching for the door that would lead to his office.<p>

Another man was leaving one of the many offices lining the wall and nearly collided with John .

"Oh!" the man said, startled. "Forgive me, I didn't know anyone else was here."

"I've only just arrived. I'm Francis Mulcahy, I'll be teaching several undergraduate courses at the start of term."

"Pleased to meet you, Francis," the taller man said, shaking John's hand. "Dr. Walt Bulcher. I teach our masters-level ethics and theology courses. We've sure needed you here the past year. The undergrad classes are always great fun, but we've really wanted to have one professor who just specializes in those core classes."

"Well, I hope I do it justice."

"I'm sure you will." Walt smiled. "If you'll excuse me, I was just on my way to pick up the textbooks for my courses. Do you need me to pick up anything for you?"

"Oh, thank you, no. I've already got everything…I hope."

Walt laughed. "See you around."

John continued down the hall until he found the door to his office. Already a name plate had been hung that read F. Mulcahy, Assistant Professor. John smiled, admiring the handsome engraving before he unlocked the door with the key he'd been given and went inside. It was standard as far as offices went. There was a typewriter at the desk, bookshelves, a few extra chairs, presumably for students needing conference. He was also pleased to note that he had a window, but was less pleased that his view looked directly into the next building.

"Oh well," he smiled, setting the box down. "You can't have everything."

John spent the majority of his day setting up what few things he had in his office and finishing his syllabus for his classes. He knew they would be due into the Dean by tomorrow, and as of yet he hadn't met the Dean of his college. He was hoping that getting it down early would make a favorable impression. John took his course syllabus up another flight of stairs to the administration offices. There was a secretary typing something out as he walked in and, without looking up, she spoke to him.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm Francis Mulcahy, the new assistant professor—"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Mulcahy," she said, still not looking up. "Father Gregor has been eager to meet you. Go on in, his door's always open."

She gestured with one finger to a door behind her. John thanked her, then crossed the room, knocking on the open door. Father Gregor was in the middle of practicing his golf putt and looked up at the knock.

"Ah, you must be my new professor," Gregor said, finishing his putt before reaching out to shaking John's hand.

"Francis Mulcahy."

"Jean Gregor. It's nice to finally meet you. I was rather offended when Father Hussey didn't bring you over right away to introduce you, but I was actually away on vacation when he hired you, so I can over look it for now."

John laughed as Gregor indicated an open seat.

"Already finished with your syllabi?" Gregor asked, eying the papers in John's hand.

"Oh, yes. I was hoping to get them in a little early in case you saw need for correction."

Gregor took the sheets and leafed through them, looking at the outline of the lesson plans. "Have you ever taught at the academic level, Francis?"

"No," John said, hoping he didn't look like a complete nincompoop.

"Well, you could have fooled me. I think these look excellent. I'll have Mrs. Baker get them typed up and off to the copier for you. Registration is still going on, of course, but you'll have your roster about a week before classes start. Most of the faculty typically only come in to turn in their syllabus and then they won't be back until a week before classes start. Don't feel obligated to be here until then unless you just want to."

After visiting for several minutes, John headed back to his office, locked up, and then headed home. He passed by a florist and stopped for a moment to look at some of the flower displays in the window. He'd never bought a woman flowers before, but smiled to himself at the thought of giving Gail one of the bouquets. He popped into the shop and ordered a dozen roses. Maybe not the most unique arrangement, but certainly the most romantic. He whistled to himself all the way to his apartment, turned his key in the lock, and heard crying as he stepped in through the door.

His brow furrowed as he saw Gail's purse and keys on the bar. Setting down the flowers and shrugging off his suit jacket, John headed towards the bedroom. "Gail?"

Gail was curled up on her side, still in her hospital uniform, obviously distraught. John sat next to her on the bed and rubbed her back soothingly.

"What's happened?"

"They…sent me…home." She sobbed. "I…wasn't paying…attention and…almost k-killed someone."

"What?" John wasn't sure what was more socking about that statement.

"I gave a patient penicillin. He's allergic to penicillin!"

"Oh," John said, not sure how to comfort her. "Was he alright?"

"Luckily the doctor caught it in time to give him something," Gail said, sniffing. "I can't believe I…how could I have been so stupid?"

"Everyone makes mistakes," John said softly, brushing back her hair from her face. "It could have been worse."

"Yeah, I could have killed him." Gail said miserably.

John sighed softly, stretching out behind her and gently running his fingers up and down her arm. "Why weren't you paying attention?"

"I don't know," she sniffed. "I'm just worried sick that I'm pregnant. I'm three days late. I probably wouldn't have even noticed really, but…"

John wrapped his arms tightly around her, spooning against her backside. "There's no point in worrying about it. It's out of our control. True, having a child wouldn't be ideal at the moment but it will be alright, either way."

"But my parents…and the church…" Gail continued to sob.

"Don't worry about them," John murmured. "We'll find a way to explain it all to them. But the fact remains that we don't even know if you are pregnant."

Gail sniffed but said nothing and John hugged her tightly.

"Can you take a few days off from your rotations? I don't have to be at the school until the week before classes start. We could go away and visit Kathy in Philadelphia."

"I'm sure after today's fiasco, they'll be only happy to give me some time off," Gail told him pitifully.

"You've been working very hard, Gail. And you've had no real time to just rest up. Don't beat yourself up over it. Be thankful that the error was caught before something worse did happen."

"You're right, of course, I just can't help but think that I could have killed him."

John kissed her neck. "Why don't you wash your face and change clothes. I have something for you."

"For me? What is it?" Gail asked as she sat up and looked at him.

"A surprise," he smiled sweetly.

Gail pushed herself out of bed and went into the bathroom to wash and dry her face, fix her hair, then came back to change her clothes. When she was finished, John put his hands over her eyes and led her back out into the living room. "John…honestly, what have you done?"

"You'll see. I hope you like them." He stopped near the counter. "Don't open your eyes yet."

Gail kept her eyes closed as John moved his hands away from them. She could hear some kind of crinkling as he picked something up.

"Okay, open your eyes."

Gail gasped as she saw John holding a dozen red roses in a bouquet with baby's breath and some kind of green fern. Her eyes began to water again. "Oh, John…they're beautiful. You really didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to," he said as he handed her the bouquet. "You're the first girl I've ever given flowers to."

She smiled as she smelled the roses. "You're the first guy to ever give me flowers. Well, except my prom date in high school who gave me a wrist corsage, but he doesn't count."

John laughed and pulled her gently to him, mindful not to crush the flowers as he kissed her brow. "I think of all days I could have brought you flowers, today was probably the best day to do so. I don't like to see you cry."

"What did I do to deserve you?" she asked, resting her head against his shoulder.

He smiled. "You fell in love with me, and I with you."

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

Title: All Good Things  
>Characters: Father MulcahyGail Harris  
>Summary: Reunited with an old friend from the 4077th, Father Mulcahy is faced with a difficult decision.<p>

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter is so long overdue. I finally had a bit of inspiration with it. - RW

* * *

><p>Gail had requested a couple of weeks off from her rotations after profusely apologizing to both the chief of staff and the patient about her error. While John made preparations for their trip to Pennsylvania, Gail busied herself with moving more of her belongings to his apartment. Now that they were married—in whatever capacity that meant—Gail had no intentions of living apart from her new husband, and John was all but happy to have her staying with him. For appearances sake, Gail would keep her room at Sherri's with minimal personal items in case her parents did decide to make another visit.<p>

As they packed their suitcases the night before their trip, Gail questioned John relentlessly about his family, wanting to know everything possible about his siblings and his parents. He had to laugh at her enthusiasm, but he also felt somewhat ill-at-ease when it came to his parents.

"Gail," he said delicately, taking her hands and sitting on the edge of the bed with her. "I'm…thrilled…that you're excited to meet my parents, but I don't want you to get your hopes up about them. My parents are very different from yours, and while I love them dearly, they tend to be very…critical at times. I worry that they may disappoint you."

"I promise not to let them hurt my feelings," Gail teased. "But, they are your parents and I'm looking forward to seeing them either way. And also Kathy."

"Not as much as Kathy is looking forward to meeting you," John laughed.

When the plane touched down in Philadelphia, Gail's excitement had turned to nervousness and she fussed with her hair and straightening her clothes as they made their way off the plane. John took her hand to keep her from fidgeting. "You look wonderful."

She offered a coy smile. "You're bias."

"Francis!" A woman called and John looked up to see his sister the Sister waving at them with her arm high above her head.

"There's Kathy," John told Gail as he waved back at his sister to acknowledge he'd seen her. He heard Gail take a deep breath beside him and he squeezed her hand as he led her over to where Kathy was waiting.

"Oh, Francis," Kathy immediately enveloped him into a hug. "It's only been a few months since I last saw you, but it feels like a year! This must be Gail; I'd recognize that pretty face anywhere. It's so nice to finally meet you. Francis has told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already."

Gail laughed softly as Kathy pulled her into a hug next. "Likewise. I'm so happy to meet you, Kathy."

"Mother's making supper for everyone tonight, Francis," Kathy told him. "She's instructed me to bring you and Gail over straight away."

"Oh," John sounded almost disappointed but nodded. "Very well. Let me get our bags."

As John wandered off, Kathy picked up Gail's hands and inspected her fingers. "Hmm. No ring. I thought surely he would have proposed by now."

Gail blushed, not sure whether or not she should confide their secret in Kathy. She decided a half-truth couldn't hurt. "Oh…he has. And I accepted of course."

Kathy beamed. "Well, tomorrow we'll go to the shops and I'll drop some heavy hints that he should get you a ring."

"Really, Kathy, it's alright. I don't need a ring so long as I've got John." She leaned in conspiratorially, "Not that I wouldn't love something to flash around back home."

The two girls snickered and John returned with their luggage. "I believe that's everything. Have you got the car, sis, or shall I hail us a cab?"

"I was able to get the car," Kathy nodded, then looked at Gail. "The church owns a car that we are able to use for personal errands. They're still so very fond of Francis, and when they heard he was coming to town, they were only too glad to let me use it for the duration of your stay."

"That's very kind of them." Gail smiled.

"And you," Kathy said, playfully hitting John across the stomach. "Why didn't you tell me over the phone that proposed?"

John looked sideways at Gail, who was wearing a sheepish expression, but he couldn't help but smile broadly. "Seemed like news best shared in person."

"Indeed," Kathy smiled. "Come on, little brother, let's get you to over to mother's."

John and Gail listened as Kathy told them about current events in Philadelphia as they rode across town. Gail was amused by how well John and Kathy seemed to get on, often finishing each other's thoughts and even managing to communicate in half-finished sentences. Though it made following their conversation hard to follow, Gail loved the bond they seemed to share.

"It's like you two share a brain," she laughed. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were twins."

"Francis and I have always been close," Kathy said from the driver's seat. "We spent quite a lot of time together as children, being the youngest. Though I'm just a few years older, I sometimes feel like I helped raise him in some ways."

"I can't imagine what life might have been like without Kathy," John smiled at his sister.

The car pulled up alongside an older apartment building and John sighed heavily. "Here we go, I suppose."

"Mother will be happy to see you," Kathy assured him, though Gail noticed she said nothing about his father.

They left their bags in the car and rode in the elevator to the 5th floor. John could feel his stomach knotting with nerves. It had been quite some time since he'd seen his parents, and, like he'd told Gail, they were often quite critical of him. He didn't doubt this visit would prove to be much different, but he hoped with all his heart that they wouldn't be critical of his wife. He wasn't sure he could tolerate that.

As the three of them waited in front of the door to apartment 5D, John linked his hand with Gail's, lacing his fingers between hers. Gail had known he wasn't thrilled about seeing his parents, but to see him so obviously uncomfortable concerned her. She gave his hand a light squeeze and he graced her with a soft smile just before the door opened to reveal an older woman with graying hair that was swept up in an attempt to look stylish. She was wearing a dark blue dress with a white kitchen apron, and when she smiled, Gail could see a smear of lipstick on her teeth.

Immediately, she adored this woman.

"Johnny," May Mulcahy held her arms open to her son, her blue eyes swimming with unshed tears. John pulled his hand free of Gail's and stepped into his mother's warm embrace. Gail watched him enfold his mother easily into arms, his eyes closing for a fraction of a second and he was enveloped by his mother's love in return.

"Mother," he said very softly before pulling back.

She cupped his face, still trying to contain her tears. "How I've missed your dear, sweet face."

"Mother," John said again with a soft smile. "I'd like you to meet Gail Harris, my…fiancée."

Gail felt her heart leap at John's slight pause, knowing he'd nearly just introduced her as his wife. She barely had time to consider it though, as May turned her attention on Gail, and—just as Kathy had done—hugged her somewhat fiercely.

"Of all my children, I think this is the happiest I've been at hearing of an impending wedding." May confessed. "It's so nice to meet you, dear. Please, won't you all come in? Kathy, darling, I've got a kettle on for tea, would you mind?"

"Of course not, mother." Kathy smiled at Gail and shuffled passed them through the apartment. Gail heard her murmur "Hi Daddy" and looked past John's mother to see an elder man standing in the middle of the living room, watching the scene with apathetic eyes. Gail suddenly felt some of John's tension creep up inside of her. John seemed to notice his father as well and Gail could feel him stiffen slightly beside her before he stepped around his mother.

"Father." He greeted neutrally. The two men shook hands, but Rowan Mulcahy lacked any warmth or affection at the sight of his son.

"Francis." Rowan returned. "So, this is the girl who made you leave the church, eh?"

John bristled. "The decision to leave was mine. It was a decision I knew was right, despite my affection for Gail."

Gail felt a swell of pride as she listened to John defend her. Though his voice was calm, she could hear the underlying anger causing just a slight quake. Timidly, she spoke up. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Mulcahy."

Rowan's eyes swung over to Gail, giving her an appraising look.

"Oh, knock it off, Ro." May scoffed bitterly, before taking Gail's arm and gently leading her towards the kitchen. "How about some tea, dear? I want to hear all about you."

John watched the two women go towards the kitchen as he and his father stood toe-to-toe in the living room. His father's expression had soured as May had called him off, but he went to his chair and sat down. John knew it was silent invitation to join his father and have a calmer discussion with him. He sat on the couch and folded his hands over his knees as he waited for his dad to speak.

"So, you're gonna teach now, that right?"

"Yes, sir. At Loyola University in Chicago. I'll be teaching religious studies."

"No one better than a priest to teach that, I suppose." Rowan worked off the cap of a beer bottle and offered it to John, who shook his head. "So, where'd you meet the girl?"

"Gail." John reminded his father. "We met in Korea. We were stationed together at the MASH unit where I served as chaplain. She was a nurse."

"Nurse, huh? What's she doin' now?"

"Studying to be a doctor. She's quite brilliant, one of a few women in her medical program."

"You talk about kids yet? There's no woman that can work and raise a child."

John felt himself pale at the mention of children. In between all the plans and packing and traveling, he had nearly forgotten about the possibility that Gail might already be pregnant. He could feel sweat breaking out on his forehead as the thoughts came swirling back up. He still couldn't imagine what they would do if she was pregnant, but—like he'd told Gail—they would make it work somehow. His answer, however, revealed none of his panic.

"Things are different now than they were 30 years ago, Dad. If Gail wishes to work and raise a child, then I will not stop her. If she chooses to stay home, then I will support her."

"Only thing that's changed is everything is more expensive." Rowan grouched. "How much you gettin' paid anyhow?"

John managed to steer the conversation away from money—a subject Rowan had always been obsessed with—and the two managed to have a decent chat about what John's brothers were up to and other family business that he had not made himself privy to since before the war. He could hear his mother, sister and Gail talking and laughing in the kitchen, and wished that he could join them, but peaceable time with his father was hard to come by.

By the time they had all settled around the table to eat, Gail seemed to be right at home in Mrs. Mulcahy's kitchen. She helped carry in some of the food, despite May's insistence that she was a guest. John smiled fondly at his wife, pleased that she did not seem to be disenchanted by his family.

"Johnny, would you say grace?"

"Of course, Mother." The family joined hands around the table and bowed their heads, waiting for John to bless the meal. "Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen."

"Let's eat." Rowan said as he reached for the bowl of mashed potatoes.

* * *

><p>"Your mother and sister are wonderful, John." Gail confessed later that evening after they'd checked into their room and were getting settled in.<p>

"Yes, I knew you would have no quarrels with Kathy and my mother. It's my father I was truly concerned about." John admitted quietly. "He can be quite…"

"Insensitive?" Gail supplied when John's voice trailed off in search of an appropriate adjective.

John looked over at her, laughing softly. "Precisely. I hope you weren't offended."

"Maybe a little," Gail said meekly. "But I still like him well enough. You did warn me, so it wasn't surprising. I think I'm going to make it my mission to get him to like me before we go home."

John took Gail's hands and pulled her against him. "I fail to see how anyone could _not_ like you."

"Oh, I think you'd be surprised." Gail said with a tone of teasing.

John laughed and kissed her forehead. Gail's hands slid up the length of his torso and rested against his chest as she looked up at him with large brown eyes that sparkled even in the dingy light of the motel room lamp. John felt the pull of arousal deep within him as he looked down at her.

"Make love to me, Johnny." She requested breathlessly, searching his eyes.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, his eyes sliding closed as he welcomed in the rush of pleasure that accompanied the feel of her kiss. Her lips parted against his and her tongue caressed his bottom lip. John moaned softly at the sweet ache in his loins as the front of his trousers grew tight around his growing erection. He cupped her face as he deepened the kiss passionately.

Gail's hand traveled back down the length of his body and she lovingly squeezed the bulge in his trousers, making him groan into her mouth. It thrilled her to know that she excited him—this man, this former priest—and it still made her feel oh so naughty. Bringing her other hand down, Gail slowly unbuckled John's belt and worked open the fly of his trousers until she could slip her hand inside to fully grasp him.

"Gail…" he groaned softly, pulling away from the kiss to claim her neck as his hands went around her to unzip the back of her dress.

"No," she breathed heavily, still running her hand up and down the length of his shaft.

"No?" He asked confused, drawing back to look at her.

"I want…" Gail blushed furiously, finding almost impossible to voice what it was she wanted, but reminding herself that he was her husband and if she couldn't tell him, then she couldn't tell anyone. "I want it to be…dirty. Naughty."

John was practically gawking at her, his face growing redder as the seconds ticked by. "How do you mean?"

His inexperience was endearing to her, and though she wasn't experienced either, she had read enough sultry romance novels and lived with Sherry long enough to know what kinky was. Gail retrieved her hand, giving him a playful smirk, and took a step back as she reached up under her petticoat and peeled off her panties, leaving her in dress, stockings and heels. She could see the understanding dawning on John's face, quickly covered up by another flush of red as Gail pushed up and perched demurely on the motel dresser.

She tried not to giggle nervously as she waited for him to come to her, but it was obvious he was dumbstruck. "Well, Mr. Mulcahy?"

John could feel his heart pounding in his chest. This was certainly unexpected, but exciting and terrifying at the same time. He always felt like such a bumbling fool when it came to matters of intimacy. He licked his lips and took a step towards Gail, then another, then another. Gail reached forward, grabbing his tie and reeled him the rest of the way in until he was standing up against the dresser between her parted thighs.

She leaned forward, now even in height with him, and kissed him. Taking one of his hands, she placed it between her knees at the hem of her dress. "Touch me, John."

John's hand was shaking slightly as he touched the inside of her knee, his fingers encountering the silkiness of her stocking before he slowly slid his hand up under her skirt, stroking her stocking-clad thigh until he found smooth bare skin where the stocking stopped. Gail leaned back on the heels of her hands and parted her legs a little more as she looked at him wantonly. He held her eyes as his hand slid further up and brushed across the moist folds of her sex. Gail inhaled sharply, closing her eyes as she anticipated more, and John did not disappoint.

His fingers gently explored her, caressed her, and stimulated her, making her cry out and moan in response to the pleasure. John was enthralled by the expressions flitting across her face and watched her alternate between biting her lip and letting her jaw fall open as her mouth formed a silent O. As he brought her to climax by mere touch, he could feel himself pulsing and throbbing within the confines of his trousers. He wondered if he had ever been as aroused as he was at that moment, and conceded that the anticipation and hunger for release was just as heady as the act of sex itself.

As John started to withdraw his fingers, Gail moved to the very edge of the dresser, parting her legs as much as she could as her hands dipped down the front of his trousers. He was hard, the veins standing out prominently against the skin as she withdrew him and guided him towards her opening. He gently pushed into her, shuddering as her warmth enveloped him and reaching under her dress with both hands to grasp the globes of her round bottom and draw her in against him to deeper connect their bodies.

Gail gasped and cried out in pleasure, her body still sensitive from release, and the resulting contraction of her inner walls made John nearly lose himself right away. He buried his face in against her neck, her dark curly locks tickling his nose and filling his olfactory senses with the soft scent of her lavender shampoo.

Her legs wrapped around his waist and John slowly moved his hips, lightly thrusting in and out of her in a steady rhythm. They sighed and moaned together as they made love atop the dresser still fully clothed. He loved how adventurous Gail was in their sexual exploits, as he would never think of half the things she had wanted to do together.

When Gail reached her second peak, her body spasmed around him, overloading his senses until he lost control of his own orgasm and spilled himself inside of her.

"Dear God," he panted as he held her tightly and rested his head against her shoulder, not wanting to move any time soon. "How can this feel so wonderful?"

Gail grazed the back of his neck with her short nails. "Because God made us for each other…a perfect fit."

John was surprised by her answer, but didn't argue. He had no doubt that she had been made for him. He felt a swell of pride and possession within him as he once again thought of her as his—his wife, his lover, his everything for all eternity. John couldn't help but think in moments like these, moments of pure bliss and absolute closeness, that—even if he lost all of this tomorrow—leaving the priesthood to pursue a relationship with Gail had been worth it.

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


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